


Room 1013

by Kitty (KutieKitty16)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Cancer, Fluff, M/M, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 15:10:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 76
Words: 67,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15294168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KutieKitty16/pseuds/Kitty
Summary: Keith was in and out of the hospital for all of his life. He often snuck out of his room to wander the halls in an attempt to stifle his boredom. When he was ten years old, he found a boy in a coma-and he happened to be around his age. He would often talk to him about his day and bring him toys. But one day, the boy was gone without a trace.Lance was nine years old when he was in a major car accident. His injuries were extensive and he was put into a medically-induced coma. When he woke up, he recovered fully and returned home. Seven years later, he suddenly remembers a certain voice that spoke to him while he was under.**Rated Mature for: sexual content, mature language, drug abuse, potentially triggering depictions of mental disorders including the topic of suicide**





	1. Act One - He's Not Okay

"One, two, three," Keith counted his small jumps as he hopped through the hallways of the hospital. His small feet fit into the yellow speckled tiles perfectly. "Four, five, si-" he bumped into a large object and stumbled back.

"Keith, how many times have I told you to stay in bed?"

Keith looked up to find a nurse. He stood over him in his colorful octopus scrubs with a clipboard in his crossed arms. The dim light from the windows cast a menacing shade into his dark skin, but in reality he was as soft as a kitten. Keith rolled his eyes, "A hundred times?"

He held out a hand for him, "Come on, let's get you back in bed."

Keith took his hand, "I'm sorry, nurse Mack."

He looked down to give him a smile of pity, "That's alright, Keith. I guess I can understand." They turned a corner and entered a small hospital room. The walls were painted in blocks of green and yellow; stickers of cartoon animals decorated the furniture and cabinets. Keith jumped onto the yellow bed and sat on his knees. Mack slipped a nasal cannula over his head, "Your body is much too small and works much too hard to keep you going." Mack tucked him in, "Just try and stay out of trouble, okay?"

Keith nodded, "Okay." He closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep, clutching a fluffy, brown teddy bear.

Keith snuck out of his room again a few days later. He found the matte walls of his prison as monsters that watched and waited for him to die. He's spent all ten years of his life in and out of hospitals, only to be back again.

Keith was brought out of his thoughts by a melodic beeping. It was distinct. Keith knew it well. He slowly turned his head to the right and looked into the room. The walls were painted a pastel pink and a kitten backpack sat on the floor next to the hospital bed. That room wasn't there before. He would've seen it if it had been. Keith looked up and down the halls for anyone who might catch him. All three nurses were focused on their own tasks–they never paid attention. He took one last look, then tiptoed into the room.

Across from the doorway was a lime green couch; to the left was the cabinets and sink; to the right was the bed. Various machines surrounded it, sprouting wires that all connected to one place. Keith climbed up onto the pink chair next to the bed and looked into it. Wrapped in the pink and white blankets was a small, tan boy. His body was all cut up and both his legs and one of his arms were wrapped up in thick bandages. A brace cradled his neck and tubes were shoved down his throat. His face was bruised. Badly. Skid-like cuts dotted his right cheek and a deep cut ran through the left side of face down to his jawbone. His eyes were closed gently, as if he was some kind of sleeping angel. Keith inspected the patient board on the opposite wall to find out his name. Lance. Lance McClain.

He turned back to the boy and leaned over his bed, "Hello Lance. My name's Keith." Keith wasn't really expecting an answer; and he didn't get one. He wasn't even sure why he talked to him. "Um, I guess you're new around here. You look like you're my age, so I hope we can be friends." He crossed his arms over the bedrail and leaned onto the back of his hands, "I don't have any friends around here."

He inspected his face for any movement. He must've been sleeping. "Hey, Lance." Keith leaned over him again, "What happened to you?"

"Keith!"

Keith flinched at the voice of his nurse and slowly turned his head with a nervous smile. Mack came over and checked the machines, "Did you touch anything?"

"No, I just looked." He stepped down from the chair.

Mack took his arm and led him back to his room. "Keith, you can't be in there."

He jumped up on his bed and pouted with crossed arms, "Why not?!"

Mack replaced his cannula and extended his arm to start an IV. "Because he's hurt and you're sick."

"But I won't hurt him!" He felt the needle enter the inside of his elbow, "Hey Mack?"

"Yes, Keith?"

"Why is Lance sleeping? Is he gonna die?"

Mack shook his head in frustration, "Keith, I can't tell you about his medical information. It's against the rules." He secured the needle and walked to the other side of his bed.

Keith followed him with his eyes, "Please?"

Mack wrapped a blood pressure pump around his arm with a sigh. He was silent for a moment, finishing his check-up. When he was done, he put everything back and sat on the edge of his bed. "Okay. I will answer your questions as best as I can."

Keith's chest lit up in satisfaction, "Okay, why is Lance all cut up?"

Mack answered his questions with an unamused expression, "He was in a very bad car accident."

"Why is he sleeping?"

"He's in a medically-induced coma."

"What's a-" he tried to repeat Mack's words, "medically-infused coma."

"Medically-induced coma," he corrected, "and it's where a doctor puts someone to sleep so their body can heal."

"Okay," he trailed off in thought. "Is he as old as me?"

Mack held up a finger, "One year younger. He's nine years old."

"Is he gonna die?"

Mack opened his mouth to answer, but quickly shut it. After a moment, he finally answered. "They don't know yet. But he isn't like you if that's what you mean."

"Oh," Keith lowered his gaze. "Okay."

Mack reached over and ruffled his hair, "Don't worry, lil' guy." He stood and walked toward the door, "They're gonna switch you to Sprycel tomorrow and see how that goes."

Keith grabbed his teddy bear and played with its ears, "Hey Mack?"

He turned around in the doorway, "Yes?"

Keith's eyes teared up, but he held them back. "Am I ever gonna stop getting worse?"


	2. Yin and Yang

"Hey Lance!" Keith whispered to the sleeping boy. "I brought you something."

He held up a stuffed lion to peek over the bedrail. After a small laugh, he set the toy lightly on his machine-controlled chest. Keith watched Lance's face as it remained unchanged. "When I was in the hospital the first time, my parents gave me that. It helped me get better, so I thought it could help make you better. I hope you wake up soon so we can play together."

Keith took a deep breath, "So, my favorite food is ice cream. My favorite animal is a lion. I love to play outside, too." He gasped and leaned over him, "Would you play outside with me when you wake up?"

A warm smile appeared on Keith's face, "I hope you will." He hesitantly reached over to touch him, but stopped and pulled his hand away. "I need to go now, but I will come back!"

He jumped down from the chair and trotted to the door, "And you keep that lion. He will make you better!"

Keith curled up in his bed, clutching his stomach and wincing. His abdomen was stabbed with painful cramps and his head burned. "Momma, it hurts," he whined pitifully.

His mother pet his hair and kissed his head, "I know sweetie. The doctors are doing all they can."

Keith skipped into Lance's room, coloring book and crayons in hand. He climbed up onto the chair and placed the book in his lap. "Hey Lance!" Keith turned back to his book, but took a double-take at Lance's face. "Ooh," he admired his skin, "your cuts are healing!"

Keith's face lit up with a sincere smile of relief, "That's good." He pulled out a red crayon and started to color. "I'm not getting better yet." He switched to the blue crayon, "The doctors said that in a few days I'm gonna get a different medicine, so it should be okay."

Nurse Mack stood over Keith as he watched himself in the bathroom mirror. "Are you ready?"

Keith shook his head, "No!" He brought a hand up to stroke his black hair.

Keith's mother placed a hand on his shoulder, "It's okay, sweetie. It's only for a little while."

"Alright, let's get started." Nurse Mack switched on the clippers and brought them to Keith's head.

"Lance! Look at my cool hat!" Keith leaned over his bed to model the red knitted hat. "And see," he pulled up on it, "it has cat ears!"

He sat back on his knees in the chair and spoke with a bright smile, "Nurse Mack had to shave my hair off because of a new medicine." He spoke with his hands, "I was really nervous about it, but it's alright now because my mom made me a cool hat!"

Bright red blood filled the glass like a wave. Keith didn't really like being poked with needles, but he found the sight of blood strange yet interesting. He reached up with his free hand to scratch his head and readjust his hat. "Nurse Mack, will I get to go outside soon?"

Mack gave him a somber smile, "That's up to the doctors, buddy."

"Lance, do you get to go outside a lot?" Keith rested his chin on the back of his hands, kicking his feet. "I don't. They say it might make me sick."

He stopped moving and brought his legs onto the chair to sit on his knees. He hesitantly reached down to Lance's hand. Several plastic devices and wires were attached to it, so Keith carefully picked it up. Lance's skin was warm and smooth, but his hand was limp. Keith gave it a light squeeze, "When you wake up, we'll go outside together. Even if we have to sneak out." He let out a playful giggle, "I'm a pro at that!"

Keith anxiously lied on the operating table and watched the crowd of nurses adjust various wires and machines. Nurse Mack appeared above him, "How you doin' Keith?"

He shrugged and returned his eyes to the nurse with a giant needle.

"Alright, Keith." Nurse Mack held up a clear mask that connected to a large tube, "It's time to go to sleep."

The mask was gently set over his face. The smell of plastic reminded him of the water–it smelled just like a beach ball. After a few seconds of breathing the artificial air, Keith looked up to Nurse Mack. His voice was muffled by the mask, "Is Lance okay?"

Mack gave him a warm smile, "He's doing really well. His wounds are almost all healed up."

Keith's chest relaxed and his face softened, "That's good." He closed his eyes to let himself drift off to sleep.

"Hey Lance, I'm finally out of–" Keith's voice cut off when he walked into the blank room. He stared at the neatly made bed and empty couch. "Lance?" He stepped out into the hallway to make sure he wasn't in the wrong room–but it was unmistakably Lance's pink room. Keith's chest hurt as he looked to the end of the bed. The kitten backpack was gone.

"Nurse Mack?" Keith was getting his nightly routine of medications and check-ups.

"Yes Keith?" The machine he was setting up beeped sharply. The ringing had become mundane to Keith.

He hugged his fluffy teddy bear tighter, "Where did Lance go?"

Mack took his eyes off the screen to lock them onto Keith. He sighed, "Lance woke up and recovered while you were sick. He was discharged yesterday."

"Diss-sharge?" Keith tilted his head in confusion.

Mack walked over to the bed to tuck him in, "It means he was well enough to go home."

"So he's not coming back?"

Mack chuckled and patted his head, "That's the idea."

Keith was distraught. His heart ached along with his bones. He lost his only friend. Who was he supposed to go outside with now?


	3. Seven Years Later

"Pidge! Hunk!" Lance shouted to his friends with a piece of toast hanging from his mouth and his arm waving in the air. His backpack flopped around his shoulder as he ran; his coat flew behind him like a cape. He always walked to school with Hunk and Pidge since they all lived in the same neighborhood.

They turned around, scraping their shoes on the sidewalk to give him a teasing look. Their clothes swayed with the motion; and their hair glowed in the morning light.

Pidge followed him with her eyes as he ran up to them. "Late again, McClain?" The sun shine brightened her snarky smile and casted a glow onto the rim of her large glasses. The spring air was cool, but the sun was warm. Trees had brightened with the green that left them in the fall.

Lance took a quick bite of his toast, "Whatever. We only have three months left."

Hunk patted his shoulder, "Yeah, three months until exams."

Lance groaned, throwing his hands up in the air, "Kill me now!"

"Hey," Pidge leaned foreword to look at both of them as they walked, "do you guys wanna play Fever after school today?"

Hunk nodded, "Yeah, I can."

"I think I can sneak away," Lance accepted with a wink. Pidge and Hunk continued to talk, but Lance's attention was pulled away. On the other side of the street, a flash of black caught his attention. He scanned the area, but couldn't find the source.

"Hey Lance!"

"Lance!"

He looked back to the group to see them giving questioning glares. Realizing he had stopped in his daze, he hopped forward. He took one last look, then returned to the conversation. "Sorry, guys. I guess I'm tired."

Lance tapped his pencil on his desk and stared out the window at the swaying trees. English class wasn't his forte; it lost his attention the second he walked in the door. The people surrounding him always seemed to go a hundred miles an hour while Lance stayed idle. He always felt like he could never catch up to the other kids his age. Sports were difficult anyway because of the car accident he was in when he was nine. His injuries healed, but he still had slight back pain and walked with a faint limp. And Lance was smart, always getting good grades, but they were never exceptional. There wasn't anything he was known for.

School went by in a blur–as it always does. Lance was tired of the same people doing the same thing every day of his life. Nothing ever changed in that town. The teachers still hounded the students. The gas station was still getting robbed. The police still didn't give a shit. Lance felt like he was stuck in a cage. A lonely blue bird in a cage all by himself.

Lance apologized to Pidge and went home instead of playing video games with them. She was upset, but understood. He kicked off his shoes as he entered his house, "I'm back Mama!"

Lance's mother peeked out of the kitchen, "Welcome back m'ijo! I made some cookies! Would you like on-"

He cut her off with a gentle hand, "No thanks. I'm not hungry right now." He forced a warm smile, "I'm just gonna go do my homework."

She lowered the tray of sweets and frowned slightly, "Okay, good luck."

He skipped up the stairs with a half-hearted smile and entered his room. Flopping down on his bed, he let out a large huff. He lied there for a moment, taking in his surroundings. The feeling from before never went away. It always lied dormant in his mind and woke any time it pleased. Even when he spoke to his parents or siblings or friends, he would often drift off. It was like he wasn't completely there, but functioned just fine.

A faded golden orange caught his eye, and he turned his head to inspect it. It was the stuffed lion he had gotten from his family when he was in the hospital. It sat on top of his dresser next to a stack of dvd cases and a Monster can. He sighed, then walked over to pick it up and bring it to the bed. Lying on his side, he placed the stuffed animal in front of him and stroked its crazy hair.

"At least I've got you."

The only time that Lance was calm was when he held the lion. It gave him a sense of security and a makeshift home. Lance curled his arm around the toy and hugged it, letting himself fall asleep to the smell of its lavender detergent.


	4. Green Obsidian

Lance clicked his mechanical pencil until the led was all the way out, then slid it back in to repeat the action. His eyes looked up to the board to pretend he was actually listening to his science teacher. His mouth moved and his hands pointed, but Lance didn't hear a word he said. It was as if he was underwater and trying to carry out a conversation.

Two taps on his desk brought him out of his head. Hunk leaned over to him and whispered, "What's the difference between chronic and acute?"

Lance furrowed his brows, "In what context?"

"Are you listening at all?" Hunk stared at him with judging eyes and motioned to the board with his pen.

Lance took a quick glance at the blue marker painted over the scratched white. Tumors. He turned back to Hunk, "Oh. Okay, acute grows fast over a shorter period of time; chronic grows slowly over a longer period of time."

Hunk flashed him a thankful smile, "You're so smart!" He returned to his desk and scribbled in his notebook.

Lance rested his head on his hand and stared out the window. The view rarely changed, but it was way more diverse than the people of the town. Flowers grew over the fields. Cars zipped past the school. Trees swayed in the breeze.

"Disgusting." Lance spat under his breath.

He almost removed his eyes from the window until he noticed a glimmer of black. He focused on the sidewalk next to the stoplight, furrowing his brows. Through a bush, a tiny wave of obsidian weaved its way into the leaves. Lance winced and clutched his head as flashes of dark purple and white clouded his vision. His ears rung and beeped as his forehead felt like it was being hit by a sledgehammer.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and shook him out of his daze. "Dude, are you alright?"

Lance looked up to Hunk, "Yeah, I'm f- ah!" Another hit pounded on his head. He sucked air through his teeth and slammed his fist on the desk as his eyes shut.

"Do you get to go outside a lot?"

Hunk wrapped Lance's arm over his shoulder and pulled him out of the desk. Lance heard him talk as they left the room, "I'll take him to the nurse, Mr. Marcus."

Lance was sent home and his mother brought him to the doctor. He sat in the cramped chair with an annoyed look. He huffed and clicked his teeth, "Mama, I'm telling you it's nothing."

She snapped open another page of the beauty magazine in her hand, "Nonsense."

The doctor called them 'migraines' and he was given a prescription to help with the pain. When he got home, his mother made him soup. He was forced to take it, but he left the tray on his desk.

Lance let out an audible sigh as he plopped into his desk chair and leaned back. He rubbed his eyes and groaned, trying to remember what he saw. He replayed the scenes in his head over and over again, scraping the memories from his mind. It was difficult. He didn't see objects, he saw colors. Always the same. Black. Purple. White. Beeping.

The beeping sound was what threw him off. It was familiar, but he couldn't remember where it was from. Like a word you know, but can't name. Where had he heard it before?

"Lance?" A small voice caught his attention.

Lance uncovered his face to look at his little sister. She was five years old and the cutest girl Lance had ever seen. Her coiled brown hair fell to her shoulders and her tan skin matched Lance's own.

His face warmed, "Hello Mia." His voice was singsong and cheerful, "What are you doing today?"

She swayed the toy rabbit in her hand and chewed on her thumb, "Mama said you were sick."

"Nah, I'm fine." He kneeled down to give her a hug, "Do you want me to play with you?"

She pulled back and hopped excitedly, "Yeah! Yeah!"

"Alright," Lance took her hand and was led to her room.


	5. The Lion

"Hey Lance?" Pidge looked at him from across the library table.

"Hmm?" Lance took a bite of his granola bar as he kept his eyes on his homework.

A green mechanical pencil tapped his books to get his attention. He looked up to see a worried but snarky gaze from behind her glasses. "You look like shit."

Hunk nodded in agreement, "Yeah, are you alright? How's your head?"

Lance furrowed his brows in frustration and snapped, "Guys I'm fine." He took another bite and returned to his math.

"Fine, sheesh." Pidge sat back in her chair and crossed her arms.

Lance wasn't okay. He was perfectly aware that he had bags under his eyes and his hair didn't fall right and anything else people wanted to point out. His head had woken him up multiple times during the night. It was probably from nightmares, but he could never remember what happened in them. It frustrated him. He hadn't had any health problems since he was a child, so why was everything popping up now?

"Mr. Jones is calling us back." Pidge shut her book and stood up.

Lance and Hunk followed as they gathered their things and walked through the hall. Lance swung his arm dramatically in boredom, plopping down into his desk. The classroom was dark, which meant one thing: movie day. He internally cheered. That meant he didn't have to do any work today.

Mr. Jones introduced the class, telling them they were going to watch The Emperor of All Maladies. Lance let his mind wander off during the documentary. The last thing that held his attention were pitiful medical movies. He was in the middle of a daydream when he heard it. The beeping. But this time it wasn't in his head.

His eyes shot toward the screen. A boy in a hospital bed was being given meds. Beside him was a machine–the source of the beeping. A heart rate monitor. Lance practically shot out of his seat and sprinted out of the room. He ignored panicked calls from his teacher, busted out the nearest door, and ran all the way home.

"M'ijo what are you doing home?" Lance's mother checked her watch. "It's only 1:30." She stood in the kitchen with a cleaning rag in her hand.

"Mama," Lance grabbed her shoulders with panicked hands, "who visited me when I was in the hospital?"

She wore a look of confusion and concern, "Just me and your father. Why?" She put a hand on his forehead, "Are you feeling okay? Are you having another episode?"

Lance slapped her hand off, then let his eyes darted around the room in thought. He returned his attention to his mother's face. "Who gave me the lion?"

"What?" She cocked her head to the side.

Lance let go of her to talk with rapid emotions, "The lion! The–"

Lance stopped and ran up to his room and retrieved the stuffed lion from his dresser. He leaped down the stairs and threw it on the counter. He jabbed a finger at it, "That lion! Who gave this to me? Who exactly?"

"Well," she thought for a moment, tapping a finger on her chin, "it must have been your father."

Lance slowly shook his head. He lowered his voice and stared at her with intensity. "No, Mama. He said you gave it to me."

"Then it must have been your nurse or doctor." Her eyebrows furrowed and she turned to continue cleaning the counter with a rag. Her movements were rushed and sporadic. "Or another family member."

"Mama," Lance huffed in frustration. He turned around and leaned his hands on the counter, eyes on the toy. His breaths filled his thumping chest, then trembled out. Someone visited him in the hospital. A guy. Someone his parents weren't aware of. Who? Who could have possibly snuck into his room?

Black. Purple. White. Beeping.

Lance turned his body to face her, "Where's the hospital? What's the name?"

She stopped and threw the rag down in annoyance, "Lance why do you want to–"

"What hospital is it?!"

She took a few deep breaths and put her damp hands on her hips. After a few moments of thought, she opened her mouth to speak. "It's in Texas. A hospital called Arlington Memorial."

Lance lowered his voice to a panicked whisper, "I have to go, Mama."

His mother kept her eyes down and her voice low. Her eyebrows furrowed. "Call me when you get there."

Lance walked over to kiss her cheek, "Thank you, Mama."

He ran upstairs and packed a bag. Lance wasn't sure why he wanted to go. There wasn't even a guarantee that he would find the answer. Even if that was true, he had to at least try. He had a feeling that it was the right thing to do. Something happened in that hospital room and he had to know about it.

Lance threw his things down the stairs and grabbed his car keys. He would have to stay in a hotel for a while until everything sorted itself out. His family had the money, so that wasn't a problem. He started up the car and backed out of the parking lot.

After driving for a few hours, he pulled into a gas station and sat in the car. Why the fuck am I doing this?


	6. Act Two - Hospital Walls

"Excuse me?" Lance leaned on the hospital desk, tapping the toe of his boot on the ground.

The lady behind it was older, chubby, and had coiled brown hair tied up in a bun. Her face was molded into a permanent scowl painted over with an ugly pink lipgloss. The smell of cigarettes wafted from her polka dot scrubs. "How can I help you?"

Lance gave her a charming smile, "I was looking for some information on a patient that was here about seven years ago? I was here when I was nine."

"Oh really?" She spoke in a snarky yet monotonous voice, not establishing any eye contact as she moved papers around. "Who is the patient?"

"Well," he thought for a moment, scratching his head, "I just wanted to know who visited me when I was here."

She took in a frustrated breath, practically rolling her eyes without moving them. "It isn't possible for us to search back that far. There's no way to tell."

"You don't have like a sign in sheet or anything from then?" He hung back on the desk.

She shook her head, "Sorry, sir. I can't help you."

Lance sighed and stepped away from the desk. He hastily ran to Texas, so how was he going to find this guy? Was there any way that he could? He just left his school and family to find someone that may not even be there. He mentally beat the shit out of himself.

He walked out the door and went to a Chinese restaurant. While eating his food, he pulled out a notebook and uncapped a cheap black pen. He had to think about this for a while. It was so long ago. Any ideas, smart one? He tapped the pen against the paper and stared at his plate. He pulled out his phone and went into his notes to look over the list of hospital staff involved in his coma. He could ask them, but would any of them know? The best bet would be to ask the nurses. He quickly finished his meal and headed back to his hotel room.

The next day, he returned to the hospital. He skipped up the stairs, following the signs to the pediatric unit. Everything felt vaguely familiar, but after all, he was asleep almost the whole time. He walked up to the young nurse behind the desk. Her light brown hair was pulled into a high ponytail, highlighting her cute round face.

Lance leaned an elbow onto the desk and gave her a charming smile, "Hello there."

An adorable smile painted her face, "Hello! How can I help you?"

"Well," he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a sticky note, "I'm looking for these guys. Are any of them around?"

She picked up the list and read over it, "Um, okay. So, I know Nurse Evans still works here." She hummed as she looked over the other names. "And I believe that Nurses Mack, Julie, and Tyrece are around here somewhere."

Lance took the list back and tipped his head, "Thank you, m'lady." He turned and walked down where she told him to go. One of the nurses had to know who the boy was. Lance hoped they did. It was a strange request, and he didn't have a lot of information either. But he had to at least try.

"Lance?"

Lance turned around to face the man that he had just passed. He was older–maybe forty, dark chocolate skinned, and held a warm and playful aura.

He smiled wide, "Lance McClain?"

He nodded, "Yes?"

"I'm sorry," he chuckled and held a hand to his chest, "I took care of you when you were here. I'm Nurse Mack."

"Oh!" Lance nodded and softened his face. "Sorry I don't really recognize you. It was so long ago."

Mack gave a friendly wave, "Nah, you were just a child." He looked him up and down, "Wow! You've grown so much! How's the health?"

"I'm doing really good." Lance felt slightly uncomfortable, but it was slowly subsiding.

Mack tiled his head and scrunched his eyebrows together, "Then why are you here, kiddo?"

"Oh!" Lance shifted his weight and looked around the hall, moving to let a doctor by. "I actually was hoping someone could help me find something."

"Well, I'm sure I can help. What are you looking for?"

Mack was nice. Lance felt a little bad that he couldn't remember him at all. His eyes drifted as he explained, "So I've had a problem lately. See, I've been getting these, like, flashbacks? Or maybe they're just hallucinations or something? I don't know, I just–" He noticed Mack's interested but confused stare and tried to speed it up. He took a quick breath to recollect his thoughts. When he was ready, he raised his eyes to meet Mack's. "When I was in a coma, did someone come see me?"

"Well," he tapped a finger on his chin, "your parents were here pretty often."

Lance quickly interrupted with a slightly raised hand, "Not them. Like," he let his eyes fall again, "like a boy? Probably young?"

Mack's jaw immediately dropped as he stared into his eyes. He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn't get it out.

Lance waved his hand, "That's alright, I can go ask around."

Mack placed a hand on his shoulder when he turned to leave, bringing him back into the conversation, "Wait!" Lance gave a questioning look at his hand, then his face. Mack let go of him, "Um, are you talking about a little boy?"

Lance perked up, "Yes! He would've come to see me when I was under. I just started getting these random flashbacks and I wanted to know what they were about."

Mack's shocked expression softened into a smile. He wasn't scary to Lance anymore. It was like talking to an old friend. Mack nodded, "I think I know who that could be."


	7. Conversations and Coffee

Two coffee mugs were set in front of them as they sat in a cozy coffee shop. Mack took a sip of his while Lance fiddled with his fingers.

The mug tapped the plate as Mack set it down, "So you've started getting flashbacks?"

"Yeah," Lance nodded, biting his lip. "Um, so you knew him?"

"Well," he took another sip, then sat back in his chair, "I was his nurse, too."

Lance was ready for all his questions to be answered. He felt like everything was coming so slowly. "So who was he?"

Mack's face brightened with a sweet smile, "Back then, I watched over him as he stayed in the hospital."

Lance raised an eyebrow, "He was a patient?"

"Yes," he reached for his cup again, scraping his finger over the rim. "You see, he got bored and lonely quite a bit. His parents had to work a lot," he waved his hand, "mystery job." He took a sip of his coffee, "So he would often sneak out of his room, which wasn't the best thing for him. I got onto him a lot about it, but I could understand his feelings. It wasn't hurting him, so I let him do it.

"One day, he found your room. You had just been moved to the pediatric ward. I found him there one day, thinking he was messing with the machines; but he wasn't." He chuckled in thought, "Even though I told him to stay out, he always went to you. I would find him coloring or playing with his toys or sometimes just watching all the machines connected to you."

Lance's face scrunched up in surprise, "Wait, so he just came to my room? Like, he wasn't family or anything?"

Mack gently shook his head, "No, he was just a kid." He took another drink, setting the mug down with a sweet smile. "When you left, he was–well, not alright, but he made it by." He motioned to Lance, "And so did you! You're doing great!"

Lance nodded, "So, who was he?"

"His name is Keith. Keith Kogane. I'm still kind of his nurse and he's grown just like you."

"How old is he?"

"He's almost eighteen now."

Lance leaned forward in his chair, "Well, where is he now? Still in the hospital?"

"Actually," Mack held up a finger, "he lives at home now. He gets care when he needs it, keeping him out of the hospital as much as possible."

"Uh," Lance rubbed the back of his neck and let out a nervous chuckle, "I know this sounds weird, but," he hesitated for a second, "could I maybe get his address or something?"

Mack seemed to fall into thought. It was a strange request, Lance knew that very well. Lance held up a defensive hand, "I know it seems stalker-ish, but I really want to meet him."

"Alright," Mack reached into the pocket of his jacket, "I'm not supposed to do this, but I think it could be good for him." He wrote onto a yellow sticky note pad, then handed him. "Here's his house address, just be wary with him."

"Wary?" Lance took the note and stuffed it into his pocket.

"Well," Mack stood, scraping the chair. "He's really fragile."

"Fragile? Like physically?" Lance stood as well.

Mack crossed his arms in comfort, giving a gentle smile. "Both physically and emotionally. You'll see."

Lance smiled at him, "Thank you so much."


	8. First Impression

Lance stared up at the ceiling of his dark hotel room. He placed a hand behind his head and took a deep breath. Every scenario of his meeting with Keith sped through his mind. What would he say? What kind of place does Keith live? Would Keith even remember? What if he wasn't there? Lance couldn't tone down the anxiety running through his veins. It was such a strange situation. Nothing like this had ever happened before, so he had no idea how to go about it.

He turned on his side and stared at the wall. This was something he had to do. He would go crazy if he left without going there. He closed his eyes and calmed his breathing. There was no going back now.

Lance's eyes darted from the address on the sticky note to the houses surrounding him. The neighborhood was calm and quiet. Bigger, nicer houses were spread out across smooth streets. Keith lived in an area Lance's family could never afford. An older couple with a Yorkie waved as he drove by. When his eyes returned to the road, Lance spotted the house. 3371 Cramer Street. He crumpled up the note and threw it into the glovebox. He pulled into the light stone driveway.

Keith's house was two stories, accompanied with light brick and black shutters. It looked cozy, yet held a sharper tone. Like having a beautifully made coffee, but it went cold. Lance stepped out of the car and took note of the black truck and Mercedes ahead of him. He took a quick breath and started toward the front door. He tapped the doorbell and fidgeted with his clothes as he waited. Standing about three feet away, his heart beat against his ribs with the force of a hammer. His hands started sweating as they tugged on his jacket. The door finally clicked open, causing Lance to jump.

It opened only enough for him to see one crystal violet eye. Shiny black hair drooped over the boy's forehead, framing his brow bone. A light blue Vogmask with pink flowers and hummingbirds covered his mouth and nose. His voice was quiet and timid, but held a sense of sharpness. "Hello?"

Lance tilted his head and leaned toward the door. He lowered and softened his voice as if he was talking to a child. "Hi," he waved a hand, "I was looking for someone named Keith? Keith Kogane?"

His eye widened and he opened the door a little wider to reveal his whole body. He was thin; dressed in dark jeans, brown boots, and a military-green shirt covered by a dusty-cranberry cardigan. His clothes hung off his shoulders and wrapped around his palms. He was about three or four inches shorter than Lance. His covered face was framed with a wavy black mullet. He brought a half-covered hand over his chest, keeping the other behind the shelter of the door. He stared up at Lance with sparkling eyes. "That's me."

Lance admired him in stunned silence. This was Keith? The Keith? "Oh," he rubbed the back of his neck. The Keith was fucking gorgeous. Lance tapped the toe of his shoe on the stone porch, gathering the courage to say anything at all.

"Who are you?" Keith's long eyelashes flickered in the cool air.

Lance stuffed his hands into his jean pockets, "My name is Lance." He pushed through his anxiety and locked eyes with him, "Lance McClain."

Keith stared at him for what seemed like hours. Then, his eyes widened. The parts of his cheeks Lance could see went red. Keith hopped back and retreated back inside to shut the door.

Lance stood on the porch and stared at where Keith once was. He didn't know how to react. Should he ring again? Should he leave? He almost turned around when he heard the door open again.

A tall woman with a wide smile jumped out. She wore a grey t-shirt and jeans. "Hello!"

Lance gave her a small wave, "Hi."

She stepped out onto the porch, looking down to Lance. "Are you one of Keith's friends?!"

He took a small step back, "Um, not really. I'm Lance. It's kinda a long story–"

"The Lance?!"

He averted his gaze, "Maybe?"

"Oh," she laughed at herself, "Sorry about that! My name is Krolia. I'm Keith's mother."

"You're Keith's mom?" Lance furrowed his brows in disbelief. This girl looked like she was twenty, not like she had an almost eighteen-year-old son.

"So you're Lance, huh?" She brought a hand to her chin and scanned him. "I was beginning to think I would never meet you."

Lance shook his head and chuckled, "Uh, you know me?"

"Well," she brought her hands to her hips, "I've only ever heard stories. You're from the hospital, right?"

His eyes widened, "Yes! I am!"

Krolia squealed in excitement, "I knew it! It's you!" She motioned to him as she spoke. "Oh," she stuck her head back into the house, "Keith! Come say hi!" She waited for a moment, then clicked her teeth. She grabbed a notepad and pen and propped against the doorframe. "I'm gonna give you our numbers, Keith and I's." She handed him the paper and lowered her voice, "He's a little shy." Tossing the notepad back inside, she continued to speak. "You can call sometime or text Keith. It would be great if we could have a coffee or something."

Lance gave her a charming smile and a nod, "That would be great. I would love that." He waved goodbye and skipped down the stairs as she went back inside. Lance pumped his fist and trotted back to his car. Success.


	9. Act Three - One Week

_You know you can't just run off like this!_

Lance sighed and rubbed his face, "I know, Papi. I just needed to do this."

 _M'ijo,_ he huffed,  _you need to come home. Exams are in a less than three months! You should be in school._

"I–" he cut himself off to think. His father was right. Final exams were a big deal–especially if he wanted to get into a good college. "I won't be much longer." He paced around the hotel room, fiddling with the ad magazines on the desk. "I already met him! I need to stay and get to know what happened."

_Haven't you already done that? You know the whole story!_

"No, Papi," Lance shook his head, keeping the phone on his ear. "I haven't talked to him, just everyone else. I've only heard the stories."

_Lance, I'm being serious m–_

"I need to do this." Lance hardened his voice. "I can't just leave now. I won't be able to even consider studying for exams if I go."

His father was silent for a while. Then he spoke in a stern tone.  _You have one more week, m'ijo. Then you come home._

Lance drug his fingertips over the rim of the matte white coffee mug. He sat at the kitchen bar as he talked to Krolia. The cozy house was decorated with soft greys and whites. Family pictures hung on the walls, varying in years. Lance stood and inspected a certain one above a built-in desk. He pointed to it, "Is this Keith?"

Krolia trotted up to his side, coffee mug in hand. "Yes. That's when his hair was growing back."

In the picture, Keith wore a wide smile. His black hair only barely reached his jawline, messily curling in random directions. He leaned forward and tilted his head back. It looked professionally taken, but it wasn't a school picture. "How old is he in it?"

"Hmm," she hummed in thought. "I believe he was about thirteen." She passed in front of him and pointed to another one in the living room. "This is right after his hair was cut."

Lance furrowed his brows as he inspected the picture. Keith was in it, but he wasn't as happy as he was in the other one. Krolia was crouched down with her hands holding his shoulders. Keith was in a red hoodie and black shorts. Instead of his shiny hair, his head was covered with a red knitted hat with cat ears. Lance smiled slightly and pointed to it, "Did you make that?"

She chuckled, "Yes, I did! He was so scared, so I thought it would make him feel better if he had a gift."

"Um," Lance chose his words carefully, "I don't want to be nosy or anything, but why did you cut his hair?"

Krolia's smile didn't falter, "Oh." She returned her gaze to the picture in thought. "I think that's something Keith would want to tell you." She burst out laughing, "If he ever talks to you!"

Lance joined in her laughter, "Yeah, I guess so."

"Oh!" She leaned over to look at the clock in the kitchen. "Speaking of my son, I'll have to leave soon to pick him up."

Lance tilted his head, "Pick him up?"

Krolia took Lance's empty coffee mug and set them on the counter, "From school."

"Oh," Lance nodded. Then his face lit up, "Oh! What if–"

Krolia stopped to look at him in relaxed confusion.

"What if I do that?"

Lance expected her to immediately refuse, but instead she perked up and her eyes brightened. "Would you?!"

Lance scratched his head, "Yeah, I mean. It might be a chance for us to finally talk."

She took his hands and gave him a motherly smile, "That would be great!"

Lance pulled into a small, separated parking lot next to the entrance. Keith's mother gave him the directions to the school and where to wait for him. He stepped out of the car to lean against the passenger side and watch the glass doors. The cool air stroked his skin and tangled in his hair. After a few minutes, he heard an automated bell ring from inside. Soon, students started flooding out. Lance searched through the crowd for Keith.

A flash of obsidian caught his eye. Walking in a muddy-green cardigan and matching Fjällräven Kånken was the stunningly beautiful Keith. His hands were raised as he spoke, even though his mouth was covered with the Vogmask. His sparkly eyes stared up at a bigger guy with black and white hair. A scar ran across the bridge of his nose, slightly covered by slim glasses. Lance would've thought he was a teacher if it wasn't for the black backpack on his shoulder. Keith only looked over to notice Lance when he was a few feet away. He stopped in his tracks and stared at him.

Lance gave him a small wave, "What's up?"

The guy with him turned to follow his gaze. Keith turned around, grabbing his arm.

"Ah–Wait!" Lance jogged up to him.

Keith whipped around to look up at him with his icy purple eyes. "What?"

"Keith, do you know him?" The guy pointed to Lance.

Keith met his eyes again. "He's just," he looked Lance up and down, "a family friend."

"Oh," he rubbed his neck and held out a hand, "My name is Shiro. I'm Keith's friend."

He shook it, "Lance."

Keith tugged on Shiro's sleeve, "Come on, let's go."

"Your mother sent me to pick you up," Lance slipped his hands into his pockets.

Keith glared at him, "I'll walk."

Shiro waved a finger at him, "Keith I usually let you do what you want, but that is the worst idea I've heard out of your mouth today."

Keith switched his glare between the two of them, then shoved himself off Shiro and crossed his arms. "Alright," he headed toward Lance's car, "take me home."


	10. The Talk

Lance took a couple looks over at the stand-offish Keith. He sat with his head on his elbow as he stared out the glass. He had removed his mask and cracked the window, taking deep breaths of fresh air. His face was much slimmer without anything covering it.

Lance let out a long breath and clicked his teeth. "Are you, uh," he tapped on the steering wheel, "are you ever going to actually meet me?"

Keith glanced over at him for a second then stared at his feet. He pulled his sleeves over his hands. He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly shut it and shrugged instead.

Lance found the action cute, and it brought a little smile to his face. "Well, uh," he rubbed the back of his neck, "I know you remember me."

Keith's eyes widened and he turned toward him, opening his mouth again.

Lance smirked, "Your mom told me."

He lowered his eyes to his shoes again. "Sorry." He spoke so low, Lance almost didn't hear him.

"For what?"

"For," his eyes flickered up as his fingers hid in his sleeves, "for slamming the door on you."

Lance was perplexed by his strange bipolar behavior. One minute he was glaring at him and the next he was shying away like an abused dog. "That's alright."

"I," he closed the window and returned the mask to his face. "I  _do_ remember you. It's just–"

"Awkward?"

Keith hesitantly nodded, "I just don't really know what to say. I mean," he turned his body to face him, "Why are you even here? I haven't seen you in like ten years."

Lance held up a finger, "Seven, actually."

"Yeah, whatever." He frowned slightly. "But seriously, why  _are_ you here?"

Lance took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. After a moment of recouping, he locked eyes with him, "Do you wanna go somewhere and talk?"

"You know," Keith sat down between the two beds in the hotel room, "When you said 'go somewhere' I didn't think it would be to your room."

Lance had his back to the other bed, facing Keith. "Oh please, I barely know you."

Keith's once cocky face dropped into a frown, "Yeah." He pulled his legs up to cross his arms over his knees. "So," he looked around the room in thought, "Should we just ask questions or?"

Lance nodded, "Yeah." They sat in silence for a moment until he motioned to Keith, "You can start."

Keith moved the hair away from his eyes, "Oh, okay. Um–" He fidgeted with his position, then rested his chin on his knee. "How much do you remember from the hospital?"

Lance ruffled his hair, "Not much. I just started getting flashbacks or something recently."

"I see." Keith gave him a nod and averted his gaze.

"Um," Lance shifted his weight, "so you came to see me, then?"

Keith picked at the worn carpet, "Yes."

Lance waited for a reply that never came, deciding not to push.

"Where do you live now?"

"Tennessee."

He raised an eyebrow, "Really? Like Nashville?"

Lance shook his head, "No, a small town. Cleveland."

"How are y–"

"Ah," Lance cut him off with a raised palm, "it's my turn. And I get two."

Keith rolled his eyes, "Sure, whatever."

He brought his knees up to hug them loosely, "Have you always lived here?"

Keith lowered his legs and nodded, "Yes. The hospital is very familiar with me."

"Hmm," Lance thought out loud. He inspected the attractive folds in Keith's clothes. "What's your favorite movie?"

Keith locked eyes with him, tilting his head. "Really?"

"Just answer the question."

Keith hesitated with a faint smile, "Dead Poets Society."

Lance waited for a moment, "Well, aren't you going to ask mine?"

He scoffed, "I'm not wasting a question on that." He flipped his hair out of his eyes. "How are you doing? With the car accident and such."

Lance nodded, "Healed. Other than a slight limp." He rolled his ankle as he explained. "What about you?"

Keith picked at the carpet more, "What about me?"

"I mean," he shifted his weight and lowered one of his legs, "why were you in the hospital? And why do you wear masks? And why was your hair shaved when you were little?"

Keith stopped him with a raised hand before he asked any more questions. He let it drop and tucked his hands between his knees. His fluttering eyes looked up at him through his eyelashes. Every syllable was sounded out as if he was annoyed to be answering and refused to repeat himself. "Chronic Myeloid Leukemia."

Keith relaxed and looked up at the ceiling, "Had it since I was a kid. In and out of the hospital." He tapped his lips, "I wear a mask to keep me from getting sick. My hair was shaved when they did chemo."

"But that was so long ago." Lance's head ached at the thought.

The corners of Keith's mouth twitched, "When I was a kid–and I had just been diagnosed–any treatment we tried didn't work." His eyes blinked slowly as they remained glued to the ceiling. "That went on for a while–but luckily, one day, one of them did. I was supposed to die when I was, like, eleven, but since we got results, I've lived a lot longer."

"So you're cured, then."

Keith gently closed his eyes and shook his head, "No." He stared back up at the ceiling, "and I don't think I'll ever be."

"Are we–" Lance stopped himself to let out a nervous chuckle, "Um, are we friends?"

Keith raised an eyebrow, "Friends? We're practically strangers."

Lance waved a finger at him, "Not necessarily. We knew each other as kids."

"I watched you sleep." Keith's sharp eyes finally relaxed as he joked with him.

They laughed at the situation for a minute. Lance loved Keith's laugh. It was gentle and calming, which was so unlike his personality. His hair fell over his closed eyes and his nose crinkled. His hands would fold up and hold his bouncing chest. Lance gasped for breath, "I know! I know! It's such a weird situation." He rubbed his eyes. "I just don't know how to get close to you."

Keith's sparkling crystal eyes met Lance's as he held back a smile. "You want to get close to me?"

"Well," Lance stammered and rubbed the back of his neck, "I mean–I guess so. Yeah."

A slight blush pulled from Keith's skin as he watched the fidgety Lance. His lips parted slightly before he started to speak. "Hey Lance?"

Lance raised his eyebrows to reply.

The upturned corners of Keith's mouth twitched, showing off little flashes of his white teeth. "What's your favorite movie?"


	11. You're Leaving?

Lance was greeted into the house with a motherly hug from Krolia. She fussed over his hair and pulled him inside. Keith's feet pattered down the steps, stopping halfway to smile down at him. Lance admired the cat socks he wore. Keith's outfit of choice was distressed jeans and a deep red knitted sweater. He skipped down the rest of the stairs and looked up at him with his hands behind his back. His eyes relaxed and a warm smile formed on his cheeks. Lance averted his gaze to keep his suave composure. "Well, hello there."

Keith's smile widened, "Hello." He snatched Lance's hand and pulled him upstairs. "I wanna show you something!"

Lance was led down the hall and into a large door. Inside was a long white couch with grey pillows and blankets. Across from it was a large TV mounted on the wall. "A home theater," he thought out loud.

"Mm-hmm," Keith nodded. He skipped over to the right of the TV and dropped to his knees, opening a cabinet and shuffling through it. His voice was slightly muffled as he leaned his head into it. "While Mom's making dinner, I thought it would be fun to watch a couple movies."

Lance kneeled down next to him, "What movies?"

Keith emerged from the cabinet with a dvd case in hand, "Dead Poets Society." He tilted it toward Lance, "Then Snakes on a Plane."

Lance eyed his flushed cheeks, "Our favorite movies."

"Yup." He pointed to the couch, "Go sit. I'll put it in."

Lance did as he was told, grabbing a pillow to hug. He watched Keith from behind as he fiddled with the consoles in the larger cabinet. Keith tended to lean onto one leg, popping his hip out. It gave him a curvier figure–adding a feminine touch to his already feminine appearance.

Keith lifted his relaxed foot to scratch the back of his calf, keeping his focus on his task. "Oh, you don't have any food allergies or anything, do you?"

"No, I'm really easygoing."

"Good," he turned his shoulders to face him, "because you're eating with a cancer kid."

Lance chuckled, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Keith returned his eyes to the screen, slowly backing up to the couch. "It means I have overly worried parents." He plopped down next to him.

"Parents?" Lance tilted his head.

Keith glanced over at him with a confused raised eyebrow, "Yeah? What's  _that_ supposed to mean?"

"I didn't mean–" he stopped himself, "I've just only met your mother. I just assumed you didn't have a dad."

"Everyone has a dad." He dramatically clicked a button on the remote. "Mine just works a lot." He clapped three times to turn off the lights. "He's a lawyer."

Lance didn't like the movie at first, badgering Keith with questions and snarky remarks. Even though he was annoying, Keith answered him with enthusiasm. He explained things in detail, even bringing up the deeper meanings of them. Keith did this thing when he was excited where he would lift his hands and pull his shoulders together. He talked circling his fingers around each other. Lance found it extremely interesting to watch, so after a while, he asked any question he could think of.

They were finally called down for dinner with twenty minutes left in the movie. Lance groaned, "Can't we just finish it?"

Keith laughed at him and tugged his arm to get him off the couch. "No, it's time for food."

Krolia had set the table and filled it with various platters and bowls. They sat down next to each other, eagerly reaching for their choice of food. After Lance had filled his plate, he picked up his fork, but stopped. Keith had several orange-tinted or matte-white bottles of pills surrounding his plate. He opened every one fluidly with a straight face. To Keith, this was a routine and mundane action. But to Lance, it was saddening. He set his fork back down and waited for Keith to finish taking them so they could start eating together.

Krolia sat across from Lance with one arm resting across the edge of the table. "So Lance, what are your plans for the future?"

Lance's teeth scraped agains his fork as he took a bite of chicken. "The future?"

She shrugged, "College? Tech school?" She stabbed another piece of asparagus. "What do you want to be?"

"Wow," Lance took a deep breath, finishing chewing the food in his mouth. "Well," he returned his fork to the table. "I haven't really thought about it. I guess," he paused, "I guess everyone expects you to have a plan and everything–like those star students that wanna go to Harvard or something." He shrugged, "I'm just going with the flow. I have no idea what I'm gonna do with my life."

Krolia leaned forward slightly, "Surely your parents have an opinion about that?"

"Well," Lance picked up his fork again and took another bite, "as far as they know, I want to go to a prestigious law school."

She gave him an understanding nod, "Ah, I see." She laughed slightly, pushing the hair away from her eyes. "So what about school? Are you finished yet?"

"No actually." Lance took note of Keith's eyes on him. "I took two weeks off to come down here. I have final exams in a few months."

"So you're leaving?" Keith's voice was calm and casual, but his face was laced with concern.

Lance's smile faded when he met his gaze. His mouth wavered as he gained his composure back. "Yeah." He looked down at his plate. "I'll be leaving tonight."

"Oh," Keith's head turned away, and he brought a hand up to his neck. "That's good. Since you have school and stuff."

Lance's chest whined for him to comfort Keith, but he couldn't find an appropriate way. He flashed a forced smile and stood, "Hey, do you wanna finish that movie? We haven't seen mine yet."


	12. He's a Good Kid

"Dude, where the fuck have you been?!" Pidge slapped his arm as he joined them on their morning commute. Her skirt fluttered with the motion along with her hair.

He playfully cowered with dramatic hands, "Sorry! Sorry! I just had to do something."

Hunk leaned down a little to get into his face, "For two weeks?!"

Pidge crossed her arms and pouted, puffing her chest out. "You didn't even answer our texts!"

Lance pushed on their backs to get them to walk forward, continuing toward the school. "I know guys, I was just busy."

Pidge threw her hands up in frustration, "What the hell were you doing?!"

"Yeah," Hunk agreed, "where were you?"

Lance took a deep breath to collect his thoughts. "Just–Just hear me out, okay?" He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos. He held it out to show them, "I was with him." They stared at the photo in shock and confusion. It was a SnapChat of Lance and Keith with dog ears. Keith was in a red sweater and looked at the camera with his sparkling eyes full of curiosity.

Pidge raised an eyebrow in disappointment, "Who the fuck is that?"

Lance brought the phone close to his chest to look a little longer, "His name is Keith. We were–well–we knew each other as kids."

"Really?" Hunk gave him a look of disbelief, "You've never said anything about him."

Pidge waved her hand to silence him, "Not important." She locked eyes with Lance, "Why were you with him? And why couldn't you tell us?"

"I just," Lance stuffed his phone back into his pocket, "I just needed to meet up with him. It's complicated."

"Sure," Pidge pulled open the glass front door of the school. "Just don't fail your exams."

"Yeah," Hunk raised a finger in agreement, "We have a study session tonight. No exceptions."

"But–"

Lance was cut off by Pidge. "No buts. You're coming. It's at my house."

Hunk waved to them as they separated, "See you then!"

Keith took a deep breath and set his phone down on his desk. He used the leg that wasn't tucked into his chest to swing his chair from side to side. Pulling his sleeves over his palms, he hugged his knee.

"How long are you going to look at it?"

Keith looked over to see his mother leaning against the doorframe. He gave her a half hearted smile, "Until he calls."

Krolia uncrossed her arms and walked over to him, leaning an arm on his desk. She reached over and picked up the phone with her fingers, "You've gotta do something else."

Keith playfully outstretched his arms, "No."

They shared a laugh as she stuffed it into her pocket. Her warm motherly eyes looked down on him. "Hey Keith?"

He raised his eyebrows in question as he retrieved a notebook from a desk drawer.

"What are you thinking?" She crossed her arms to relax, "You're hard to read."

He fingered through the pages and sighed. He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it and sat back in his chair. His eyes stayed on the wall in front of him as a faint smile tugged at his lips. "I don't know. I guess," he looked down to fiddle with his sleeves, "I just wish he could've stayed longer."

Krolia's eyes lowered, "Well, he didn't leave forever."

"I know that," he scoffed. He raised his head, letting his eyes drift around the room. "He's just fun to be around."

"So you like him?"

He nodded, "Yeah, he's cool." His mouth curled into a smile, "I think we can be really good friends."

Krolia's smile returned. "So," she sat on the edge of his desk, "Tell me what you think of him. What did you guys do? Are you excited to see him?"

"Um," Keith scoffed and shook his head, "I guess I am excited to see him. I didn't think I ever would, I mean, it was so long ago." She turned his chair toward her and continued to swing it. "We just talked, really. Well, we watched movies too, but we talked through them. He's," his eyes looked to the side, "he's definitely interesting. Easy to talk to." He locked his smiling eyes on her's, "I wanna see him again."

"Yeah," she reached up to ruffle his hair, "He's a good kid." Her ring tapped the desk as she returned it. "I'm glad I got to meet the guy you have fawned over."

Keith slapped her arm, "I did not!"

She laughed and skipped out of the room, "You totally did!"


	13. Video Chat

_"Okay, look at this."_ Keith sat cross-legged on his floor, reaching over off-camera. He was dressed in black leggings and a dark, emerald green sweater that hung off his shoulder. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail. His bangs seemed to constantly bug him, making him push them out of his eyes.

Lance watched him through his phone, leaning his chin on the back of his hands. He sat at his desk with his phone propped up on the wall. Keith returned to the frame and flipped open a large sketchbook. He turned it around to reveal a watercolor painting of a ballerina.

 _"Do you like it?"_ He flipped it around to inspect it. " _It's one of my favorites."_

"You're a really good artist." Lance outstretched his arms to hold the sides of the phone, keeping his chin on the desk. "You gotta draw me."

Keith rolled his eyes and set the sketchbook aside, " _Everyone says that."_

He raised an eyebrow, "So you won't?"

Keith pulled a leg up to his chest, " _I didn't say that."_ He moved onto his knees and picked his phone up, changing the view to only show his shoulders. The movement signaled that he was walking.

Lance lifted his head and sat back in his chair, "Hey, where are you going?"

Keith looked down for a second to show one eye, then propped the phone up again on the kitchen counter.  _"I'm gonna get something to eat."_ He backed away to open the fridge.

Lance could see the tips of the counters on the left, the fridge in front of him, and half of the China cabinet to the right.  "Whatcha gonna have?"

Keith shrugged, and headed toward the fridge.  _"I don't know,"_ he turned back to look at Lance,  _"What should I have?"_

He chuckled and shook his head, "How should I know?"

Keith turned back around,  _"You're no help."_ He brought an elbow up to rest it on the fridge, lacing his fingers behind his ponytail. _"Maybe I should leave you."_

Lance playfully begged, "Oh no~! Don't go!"

They shared a laugh as Keith retrieved a carton of eggs and closed the door with a nudge of his knee. He set it out of view on the counters. Lance could see the back half of his body, watching him sway and reach for things he couldn't see. Keith stayed off the screen,  _"How's your school going? When do you take your tests?"_

Lance groaned and ran a hand over his hair, "Exams are in five weeks."

Keith took a quick glance at him,  _"Aren't you studying right now?"_

"Oh, I was." He let out a nervous chuckle, "but I got bored."

 _"Goodbye Lance,"_ Keith playfully scolded him as he walked over and leaned down to appear in the screen.  _"Go study."_

"No," he swung in his chair, "I wanna talk to you."

_"You're being a baby."_

Lance tilted his head, giving a pitiful beg. "Just a little longer?"

Keith rolled his eyes, trying to hide a smile. He stood back up and returned to the left of the screen.

Lance rubbed his eyes with his palms, "Are your parents home?"

 _"No,"_ Keith knelt down to sift through a drawer,  _"Dad's in court and Mom's running errands."_

"Oh?" Lance smirked, "You gonna misbehave?"

Keith leaned back to raise an eyebrow at him,  _"I would slap you if I was there."_

"Promise?"

Keith returned to his work and laughed hard,  _"You're so immature."_

Lance stood to lie down on his bed, holding the phone above him. "Seriously, though. Don't you have someone?"

_"Have someone?"_

"A girlfriend or something."

Keith opened the fridge to return the eggs, turning to give Lance a smile.  _"That would be you."_

Lance moved the phone away to hide a blush, rubbing the smile off his face.

_"Hey, where'd you go?"_

He returned it to its position, "So no girlfriend?"

Keith shook his head,  _"I'm not into girls."_

Lance's face filled with surprise, "You're gay?"

Keith took several glances back at the phone, then covered his blushing face.  _"Ah, I freaked you out."_

"No, no," Lance sat up and leaned his elbow on his knee, "I don't mind at all."

Keith peeked through his fingers,  _"You don't?"_

"Nah," he shook his head, "We're cool."

Keith walked up to rest his head on the counter, placing the tips of his fingers into view.  _"Okay, So what about you? Don't you have a girlfriend?"_

Lance shook his head, "Nope. No girl."

 _"Oh,"_ Keith's face dropped, and he brought his head off the counter to nod,  _"Okay."_ He returned to the left of the screen,  _"Guess you're a loser, then."_

"Hey!" Lance chuckled, pointing a finger at him. "That's not nice!"

Keith giggled, then reached over to pick up his phone. He wore a judgmental expression,  _"Go study."_

"Wait~!" Lance whined, "I don't wanna~"

Keith looked through his eyelashes, tilting his head down.  _"Goodbye, Lance."_


	14. Campfire

Lance sat back in his red camping chair to move his face away from the fire. Pidge reached for a marshmallow, piercing through it with the stick she held between her knees. Her tongue sat between her teeth as she focused. The orange hues from the fire created a warm bubble in the night air.

Hunk took a drink of his root beer, "Ah, this is the life."

Lance laughed in agreement, pulling a knee up to his chest. "Oh yeah, brother."

"You guys are losers." Pidge kept her focused gaze on the burning marshmallow.

"Pidge," Lance pursed his lips in a judgmental expression, "You turn your marshmallows into coal."

Her eyes finally met his as she threw her free hand up. "That's how you're supposed to eat them!"

"Uh," Lance brought his leg back down and leaned forward to grab his stick, "False. Let me show you how it's done." He stuck two puffy marshmallows onto it and relaxed in his chair. He kept them away from the fire, rotating every few seconds. He stopped when they were a light golden brow. He pointed to the stick, "That's how you do it."

Pidge peeled off the black coating of her marshmallow and dropped it into her mouth. "Nope." She licked her fingers, "This is much better."

Lance turned his head, "Hunk."

Hunk held his hands up in defense. "Do not bring me into this."

"But–" Lance was cut off when his phone started to buzz. He huffed and reached into his jacket pocket. His face immediately brightened up when he saw the video chat ID. He leaned his stick up against the makeshift log table and smoothed his hair. Pidge and Hunk shared a curious look. Lance answered it with a smile, holding the phone up to reveal his glowing face and green jacket.

Keith was sitting at his desk with his phone propped up against the wall. He smiled and leaned down slightly.  _"Hi!"_

"Hello there," Lance noticed Pidge's staring, "Um–"

 _"What are you doing?"_ He tucked a few strands of hair behind his ears.  _"Are you outside?"_

"Uh, yeah." Lance turned his body to show Pidge and Hunk sitting around the fire behind him. "I'm with my friends."

 _"Oh!"_ Keith averted his gaze.  _"Did I interrupt?"_

Pidge rolled her eyes, "Ye–"

"No, not at all." Lance shook his head and returned to his chair. "What are you up to?"

Pidge held up a hand in confusion, switching her confused gaze between Hunk and Lance.

Keith shrugged, " _Nothing really_." His rose cardigan swayed with the motion. He leaned close to the camera, " _You're at a bonfire?_ "

"Yeah," he nodded, "a little weekend break before studying more."

 _"Aw,"_ Keith playfully tilted his head and pouted,  _"You shoulda come to me."_

Lance laugh and lowered his faint pink cheeks, "Ah, sorry."

Keith's shoulders lifted and bounced with his laughing. He did that thing Lance loved where he hid his face in his shoulders as his nose crinkled and showed off his teeth. Keith's laugh was adorable. Lance was glad that he found a new friend.

Keith snickered,  _"You better."_

Pidge dramatically cleared her throat, eyes locked on Lance.

"Oh," Lance turned the camera to her, "This is Pidge. She's a little gremlin."

"Hey!" Pidge scolded him.

He moved the phone to the other chair, "And this is Hunk. He's a little bunny."

Hunk shrugged in agreement.

Keith waved a half-covered hand,  _"Hello everyone!"_

Lance switched the camera back to him and turned the phone around to motion with his free hand. "Guys, this is my friend Keith."

Pidge scoffed and crossed her arms, speaking under her breath, "Friend."

Lance turned it back to him before Keith could wave again, "How are you feeling?"

Keith tucked more hair behind his ear and nodded,  _"I'm good. No huge problems."_

"Huge problems?" Lance raised an eyebrow, "I wanna hear 'no problems.'"

Keith rolled his eyes and scoffed,  _"Do you even know who you're talking to?"_

Lance laughed and sat back in his chair, "Are you doing anything fun for the weekend?"

Keith let out a nervous laugh and averted his gaze,  _"What would I be doing?"_

"What would–" Lance dramatically scoffed and brought a hand to his chest, "Shopping? Theme park?" He motioned in front of him, "Bonfire?"

 _"You need a lot of friends to do that."_ He crossed his arms on his desk and leaned forward.  _"And healthy bones."_

"Oh!" He held a finger up for emphasis. "Keith!"

Keith lifted his head,  _"What?"_

"I have an important question." He leaned his elbows on his knees and used his free hand to emphasize every word. "It determines the fate of this friendship."

Keith scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion, " _Um, okay_?"

Lance took a dramatic pause, "How do you roast your marshmallows? Burnt or golden brown?"

Keith chuckled and lifted his arms off the desk to move the hair from his eyes, " _Really? Okay_." He shifted in his chair, " _Burnt. Obviously_."

"No!" Lance dramatically slapped his thigh and bet over.

"Ha!" Pidge stood and jabbed a finger at him. "Ha! I told you!"

"Ow," Lance clutched his chest, "I'm hurt." He looked back at Keith, "Why would you say that?!"

Keith laughed at him, leaning his cheek on his elbow. " _You're so cute when you're angry_."

"Ha!" Pidge shoved his shoulder and gave a victorious dance. "Pretty boy knows his shit! Hey," She grabbed the phone to talk to Keith, fighting off Lance. "You're in our group now."

"Pidge!" Lance reached for the phone, but she ducked under his arm. "Give it back!"

"No!" She jumped over a log and dodged him again. "He's my friend now!"


	15. Call Him

Lance stared out the window of the classroom with his head leaning on his elbow. He tried to focus, but the last place he wanted to be was at school. A hand tapped his shoulder, bringing him out of his trance. He turned around to face Pidge in the seat behind him. "What," he whispered.

"You missing your boyfriend?" Her eyes squinted as she flashed a teasing smile.

Lance dropped his arm across the top of her desk, "He's not my boyfriend."

"Sure," she crossed her arms. "When did you guys talk last?"

He raised his hand in emphasis, "That's the thing!"

"Shh!" Hunk leaned over to quiet them.

Lance lowered his voice and leaned forward, "We haven't talked since Monday."

Pidge gave him a judgmental head tilt. "Really? Two days?"

"That's a long time!"

"Shh!" Hunk held a finger to his lips.

"Sorry," Lance turned back to Pidge, "He hasn't called or answered my texts at all." His eyes fell to the floor, "I feel like something's wrong."

"Worry about it later," She tapped him and pointed up to the board, "We've got a pop quiz."

"Ah hell!" Lance turned around and dropped his hands on his desk.

Pidge skipped ahead of them on their walk home. Her shoes scraped against the sidewalk, "Fever at my house?" Her skirt swayed with the motion, tapping her thighs. The wind brushed her golden hair and wrapped around her legs.

Hunk high-fived her, "Yeah! I'm in!"

She held a hand up to Lance, "C'mon! Join us!"

Lance stared at her hand for a moment and sighed. "Pidge, I don't know."

"Oh my god! You never play with us anymore!" She tugged on his arm as she whined.

Lance felt bad about not playing video games with them. He had been so busy with Keith that he hadn't hung out with them as much. He fluffed her hair, "Just let me make a call, alright?"

"Fine," she pointed an authoritative finger at him, "Then you gotta come!"

Lance waved her off and let himself fall behind. He pulled out his phone and almost tapped on Keith's name before Krolia popped up on the screen. Lance quickly answered. "Krolia? How's it going?"

 _Hey Lance,_ her voice was lower than normal, as if she was nervous. It was somber and only brought worry to Lance's mind.

He slowed his walking down a little, "Is something wrong? I haven't heard from Keith in a while."

 _Um,_ Krolia hesitated,  _I think you should try calling him again._

"What's wrong?" Lance's face tensed up in worry, "What happened?"

 _Lance,_ Krolia dragged out her voice and sighed,  _Keith went to the doctor a few days ago and–"_ She let her voice trail off.

"Krolia?"

_He didn't get good news._

Lance stopped in his tracks. His chest hurt and his hands shook. It took a minute to find his shaky voice, "What did he say?"

He could hear shuffling in the background, then a sigh.  _The treatment stopped working._

Lance's lungs brought in shaky breaths as his chest was being hit by a ton of bricks. He let his arm fall to his side as his eyes locked on the ground. This was something he had been afraid of. Pidge and Hunk turned around and said something, but he couldn't comprehend their words. He used all his strength and lifted the phone back to his ear. "What are they gonna do?"

 _Well, um, first they are prescribing a different medication._ She chuckled, but it was more of a sob.  _Ah, I'm so sorry to call you like this._

"No, don't be." Lance tried all he could to keep his breathing steady. "I want to know." He let out a light chuckle, "I don't think Keith would've told me."

 _Yeah,_ she took a deep breath,  _Lance, do you know how leukemia progresses? Like how it works?_

"A little bit." Pidge and Hunk had walked up to him. Pidge held his arm and played with his hand as Hunk patted his shoulder. Lance kept his eyes vacant, "I was curious after he told me."

_Well, there are three phases of  Keith's leukemia. The treatment he gets depends on what phase he's in and a few other things._

Lance jumped in before she could continue, "What phase is he in?"

Krolia hesitated, but quickly gained her composure.  _He's progressing into the Blast phase. The, um–the third one._

Lance bit his lip and shut his eyes tightly, "What does that mean?"

_It means that the cancer is growing much faster than before. It also means that he's going to get pretty sick._

Lance shook his head and brought the phone to his chest. He took short, quick breaths to compose himself.

"What's going on?" Pidge kept her voice soft as she stroked the back of his hand.

Lance looked down at her and shook his head. "Give me a minute." He brought the phone back to his ear, "Krolia, I'm coming there."

_Oh, you don't have to do that. Don't you have exams?_

"I can study there. I have two weeks." He hung up before she could answer. His thumb tapped on his phone as he brought it to his chest.

"Lance?" Pidge lightly squeezed his arm.

He kept his eyes ahead to avoid looking at them. "There's something I haven't told you guys about Keith. Why I've been focusing on him more than you."

Pidge tilted her head and shot a look at Hunk, who leaned down to see his face, "What is it, buddy?"

Lance's eyes fell to the concrete, "He has cancer." He could feel their hands tense. "Chronic Myeloid Leukemia." He took a deep breath and looked at both of them, "And he's not doing well."

Pidge dropped her head, bringing the back of his fingers to her forehead. "You should've told us earlier." Lance put his phone back and pet her hair. She pushed him away, "Go to him! Didn't you say he was sick?"

Lance smiled, "Thank you, Pidge." He looked up at Hunk, who nodded. "Both of you." He skipped forward, "I'll be back soon!" He took off to his house, "Send me your notes!"


	16. Go To Sleep

"Where is he?" Lance arrived late in the night. He would never have come that late, but he regarded this as a special case. Krolia nodded and pointed up the dim stairs. Lance gave her a hug, "You doing okay?"

She hugged back, "I'll be okay." She pulled away and gave him a smile, "I'm more worried about him."

"How long ago has he been reacting to meds?" Lance led her to the living room so she could sit down.

Krolia sat on the white couch and put her face in her hands, "This hasn't happened in six years."

"Six?" Lance crossed his arms and sighed. He turned his body toward the doorway, "I'm gonna go see him."

"Of course," she stood and motioned toward the stairs, "second door on the left." She placed a hand on his shoulder, "Stay as long as you like."

Lance followed her directions and stopped in front of his door. A stream of faint light spilled from the bottom slit. He lifted a fist to knock, but decided against it. This was his best friend. He needed Lance right now. He placed his hand on the doorknob and quietly opened the door.

Keith's room was cozy. He had a light grey carpet and white walls. His desk sat in front of the door along the side wall. Various notebooks and colorful glitter pens spilled over the side. A dresser sat on the right side of it. The small bed was placed in the upper right corner. Keith lied on top of his blankets, clutching a decorative white pillow to his chest. His bare feet rested on a fluffy grey blanket that unfolded over the edge. Lance was surprised at how normal his room was–unlike his expensive house.

Lance sighed and turned to silently close the door. He left his shoes next to the desk and tossed his coat on top of them. Keith didn't acknowledge his presence. His eyes were fixated on the wall across from him as he lied on his left side. Strands of his hair were sprawled across the side of his face and drooped over his neck. Lance slowly walked over to Keith and lied down on his right side to face him. He stared for a minute before speaking in a low and calm voice. "Hey there~."

Keith's eyes finally filled with a faint sign of life. He pulled the pillow down to uncover his face. "What are you doing here?" He gasped, "Am I dreaming?"

Lance chuckled and brought an arm up to rest his head on his bicep, "I hope not, because that would mean that I'm this tired for nothing."

A smile lit up Keith's face as tears filled his eyes, "Lance!" He closed them tightly and let out a sharp breath, "It's not– I'm not–!"

Lance shushed him and inched closer, "Hey, hey. Don't do that." He kept his voice low and sweet. "Don't cry. You'll make me feel bad."

Keith stuffed his face into the pillow and shook it, "Don't look!"

Lance lifted a hand and gently wrapped it around Keith's wrist, "Keith." He tugged on it a little, "Keith, look at me."

His hands released the pillow, letting Lance take it from his grasp. He kept his face down and arms stiff.

Lance grabbed his hands, "Keith, when's the last time you slept?" He released a wrist to pull Keith's chin up and inspect his face, "You have bags under your eyes."

Keith's face froze at the touch. His breath became shaky. "I don't know."

Lance sighed and jumped up from the bed. He pulled the grey blanket out from under his feet and flipped it open to place it on Keith. Then he walked over to the desk and turned off the lamp. Keith watched him intently, leaning on his arm. Lance returned to him and tugged the blanket over himself. He fluffed Keith's pillow, "Go to sleep. You're exhausted."

Keith slowly placed his head down on the pillow, keeping his eyes locked on Lance's. He focused on every feature, "You're staying?"

Lance chuckled, "Of course. No leaving tonight." He shifted his position, "I'll be here when you wake up."

Keith's face softened. A smile it up the constellations on his cheeks and brought a sparkle to his crystal violet irises. His tears looked like liquid mercury reflecting nonexistent light. They created a somber halo around his head. The entire universe painted his skin and weaved through his obsidian hair. He was perfect even when he was crying.

Lance let out a nervous chuckle and lowered his gaze. Keith's weak arms wrapped around his chest, "Thank you."

Lance smiled and let him lie on his bicep, bringing the other hand up to run his fingers through Keith's hair. "Yeah, no problem. I guess this is payback for leaving you back then."

Keith's chest tapped against Lance's as he laughed, "Shut up." His giggles gradually died down with his breathing as he finally found rest.


	17. Just Go

Lance watched as Keith sipped on his vegetable soup. He sat in his desk chair covered up in the grey blanket. His slim fingers held the spoon with a shaky hand. His eyes were red and irritated. His hair was messy and covered in oil. Lance sat in a chair next to the desk with his arm resting on it. He carefully watched every move he made.

Keith's eyes fluttered in his direction as his spoon stopped a few centimeters from his lips. "You're being creepy."

Lance kept his position, "Just eat."

"I can't eat when you're staring at me," he lowered the spoon back to the bowl and glared at him.

Lance smirked, "You watched me sleep."

Keith watched him laugh and rolled his eyes. He scraped the bottom of the bowl, "Yeah, I did."

Lance caught his breath with a sigh, "Hey Keith?"

"What no–" Keith's breath hitched as Lance's hand reached up to his hair.

After a moment, Lance flashed a smiled as he brushed off Keith's bangs. "Your hair's a mess."

Keith slapped his hand away with a flustered smack. "I'm–you can't just–!"

Lance laughed and sat back in his chair, "Aw, lighten up a little."

"Lighten up?" Keith turned to glare at him with eyes of gleaming intensity. "I'm gonna fucking die."

Lance's smile dropped along with his chest. He lowered his eyes and laced his fingers together, "Oh, Keith."

"What?" Keith turned his body back to his soup and lifted the spoon again.

Lance leaned close to him, resting his cheek on Keith's bicep and looking up angelically. "You're cute when you're angry."

The corners of Keith's mouth twitched as he tried to hide a smile. "Stop being so cute."

Lance nudged his cheek into Keith's arm and giggled, "Are you mad at me?"

Keith finally laughed and shoved him off, "Stop it!"

"Come on!" Lance wrapped his arms around Keith's blanketed shoulders and pulled, "Be happy!"

"Stop pulling me!" Keith stumbled off the edge of his chair.

Lance quickly reacted on instinct and picked him up to place him on his lap. "Whoa there, you almost–" Lance's voice stopped in his throat as Keith looked up at him from his chest. His eyes were filled with curiosity and a twinkle of something Lance hadn't seen before. Strands of his hair were sprawled over his nose and framed around his eyes. One of his hands had latched onto Lance's shirt.

They sat in silence as they stared at each other. Keith looked down to his lips and inched himself up Lance's chest. He pushed away from him to get closer to his face, keeping his hand on his shirt. Lance was paralyzed. His mind stayed blank as he titled his body away. Keith looked at his lips then back at his eyes. After Lance didn't pull away, he finally titled his head and closed the distance between them.

Keith's lips were soft and sweet. Not like honey, but like a hug. Lance leaned into the kiss and reached a hand up. Before he could touch his cheek, Keith broke the kiss and pushed him away.

"You should go." Keith kept his eyes on the wall.

Lance scoffed, "Wait, no. Keith–"

Keith shook his head, "I'm sorry, just–just go."

Lance grabbed his thin wrist and pulled it toward him, "Keith look at me."

"Lance!" Keith clamped his eyes shut and shook his head, "Just go!"

Lance stared at him for a moment, then released his arms and slowly stood up. His head was muddled and confused. What did he just do? "Um, I'll–" he picked up his jacket and shoes. He had to get out of that house before he fucked anything else up. He kept his eyes on the ground. "I'll leave you alone for a while."

Keith listened to Lance's footsteps as they hopped down the stairs and out the door. When he heard it shut, he could finally breathe. He stood up and violently shoved his chair back. His fingers weaved into his oily hair and latched on. "What the fuck did I just do?" He covered his eyes and let out a panicked breath, "Oh my god." Keith knew he fucked up. He fucked up really bad. His chest felt heavy and sharp. The pounding in his ears hammered against his forehead as he tried to catch his breath. "What the fuck did I just do?"


	18. I'm Such an Idiot

Lance flipped his turn signal then returned his arm to his window. He stared at the red glow of the light. The other cars zipped past him, giving a slight push to his car with the wind. It was slightly rainy and the sky was covered with clouds. Lance huffed and yanked the glovebox open to retrieve the pack of Marlboros. His father kept them in the car, but Lance rarely smoked. He held a cigarette between his teeth and flipped on the lighter as he turned on the street. He felt the light stream of cool air enter the car as he cracked the window and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

 _Keith kissed me._ He mashed his palm into his forehead, keeping the cigarette away from his hair.  _Keith kissed me._

Lance slammed his fist on the steering wheel, "Damn it!"

He wasn't sure what to think. How had he never noticed Keith's feelings? They were so close. Was it just because Keith was upset? Did Lance fuck it all up by leaving? By not pulling away? He took another drag and let it out in a shaky exhale. How could he be so cruel? Lance knew that Keith was gay, but he never thought that he liked him. Had he always had feelings for him? Even with the sequence of events, Lance couldn't help but feel like he took advantage of Keith.

Lance stopped the car at a desolate parking lot by a church. He stepped out and leaned against the car to finish his cigarette. He watched the strings of grey float into the air, his mind going a hundred miles an hour. What was he supposed to do now? Leave? He couldn't do that. Lance leaned his head back and looked up at the clouds crawling across the sky.

 _Do I...like Keith?_ Lance had never thought about it. He just figured they were really good friends. He ran over everything in his mind, picking out all the details that may have indicated something different. All Keith's cute smiles and the way he pulled his sleeves over his hands. All the times Lance had to hide his face. The angelic halo that always accompanied Keith's voice. Of course. Was he blind? How could he be so stupid?

Lance threw his cigarette down and jumped back in his car.  _God, I'm so fucking stupid._

"Keith?" Krolia knocked on his open door. "Are you okay?"

Keith ignored her and hugged his pillow tighter. He kept his eyes on the wall.

"Where's Lance?" Krolia scanned the room and peeked down the hall. "I–uh–I didn't see him leave."

"He's gone." Keith's eyes stung. He removed them from the wall to face his mother. He spoke in a broken whisper, "He left."

"Oh, baby." Krolia hurried over and wrapped her arms around him, sitting him up on the bed. She pet the back of his head and talked in a motherly tone, "What happened? Are you okay?"

Keith clung to her. He shut his eyes and let out a sob, "I fucked up, Mom!"

"Oh, sweetie." She rocked him back and forth. "What happened?"

Keith let out a few cries and pulled back. Krolia took his face in her hands and wiped his tears. Keith shook his head, "I fucked up!"

"Whoa, what's going on?" Keith heard his father walk into his room.

Krolia turned to look at him and shake her head. She lifted Keith's face, "Baby, what happened? Did he hurt you?"

"If he did, you know," Keith's father playfully waved his fists, "I can beat him up."

Keith's voice was barely audible, "I kissed him."

Krolia stared into his eyes, "What?"

"I kissed him!" Keith pulled himself back into her chest. "He left and it's all my fault!"

Keith's father knelt down and placed his hand on Keith's knee. "Well," he chuckled, "When did he leave?"

"Eric," Krolia scolded him for laughing.

Keith sniffled and wiped his eyes, "He left this morning." His chest sunk under a heavy weight, "And it's night now, and that means he's not coming back!"

"Sweetie, you don't know that," Krolia moved his hair from his face.

"Yes I do!" Keith tightened his grip on her shirt. "I shouldn't have done it! God, what was I thinking?! I'm such an idiot!" He pulled away and brought his hands up to tug his hair. He lifted his eyes to his parents in desperation, "What do I do?"

They both shared a look. His father shrugged. Krolia turned back to him, "Well, sweetie," she stroked his arm, "I think you should call him."

Keith gulped, "I did. So many times." More tears fell from his eyes, collecting on his jaw. "But he never answered."


	19. Forget It

Keith had to practically beg his parents to let him go back to school after that night. He needed to see Shiro and sort this out. He was the only person that may help make this better. He picked out jeans, brown boots, a dark maroon shirt, and a military green cardigan. He slipped his Vogmask over his face and took a deep breath.  _Everything is going to be okay._

"Shiro!" Keith jogged up to him in front of the classroom door.

Shiro looked over as he approached. He was talking to their science teacher, Coran. His glasses glinted under the artificial light, "Keith! What's up?" He gave a suave smile and tucked a hand in his black jeans. Keith thought he was too formal for high school. He always dressed really nice. Today's outfit of the day was a grey sweater over a white dress shirt.

Keith grabbed his sleeve, "I need to–" He turned to Coran, "Good morning, sir." He turned back to Shiro, "I need to talk to you."

"He just left?" Shiro leaned forward with his arm on his desk.

Keith sat in the desk next to him. He tugged his sleeves down and lifted his hands for emphasis, "Yes." He ran his fingers through his hair, "I'm such an idiot." Keith planted his elbows on his desk and put his fist on his forehead. "I wish I never did it."

Shiro leaned over and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Keith, you can't change it. Let's figure out what to do next."

Keith opened his eyes and stared at the wall, "He hates me."

"He doesn't hate you."

"Yes he does." Keith pulled out his phone and tossed it onto Shiro's desk. "He didn't answer any of my calls. He just left without a word."

Shiro returned the phone to Keith's desk, "Maybe he's busy?"

"He lives two states away, Shiro." Keith gave him an annoyed glare. "He had plenty of time to call."

"Well–"

Keith dropped his forehead onto his desk with a loud bang, "He hates me, Shiro!"

"Keith, I'm your friend and I love you, but you're causing a scene."

He lifted his head and adjusted his mask, "Too late for that, don't you think?"

Coran uncapped a marker and lifted his arms to address the room, "Good morning class! Let's get to work!"

Keith tried to keep his mind off Lance the entire time, but he kept finding himself staring out the windows in thought. The kiss was gentle. His skin was warm and strong. His chest was comfortable and protective. Keith would give anything to be held by him again.  _Why didn't he stay?_

Keith's boots clicked the hall floors as he walked beside Shiro and Allura. He watched the shoelaces jerk with each step as he listened to their conversation.

Allura had her pale silver hair wrapped in a tight bun. She was one of the prettiest girls in Keith's school. Too bad she wasn't interested in anyone. The only people she even talked to were Keith and Shiro. Her manicured fingers held the straps of her black bag. "I'm not saying he deserves to die, but if he ever assigns a test and a essay in the same week then–" she shrugged.

Shiro chuckled and shook his head, "You've got a seething hatred for that guy."

"He's an asshole!"

"Not to me," Shiro smiled.

Allura pointed an accusatory finger at him, "That's because you guys are fuckin'."

"Ooo," Keith dramatically chimed in, "drama."

"Okay–" Shiro stammered, raising his hands up in defense, "I'm not sleeping with my teacher."

"Sure you're not," Allura teased in a singsong voice.

Keith high-fived her with a laugh, "Agreed."

Shiro started to plead not guilty while Allura wasn't having it. Keith's phone started vibrating. He slipped it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. His face quickly fell in confusion. He hesitantly answered.

"Mom?"

_Keith, I'm here at the school. You need to come right now._

"Woah," Keith stopped walking, gaining the attention of his friends. "What's going on? Am I in trouble?"

Krolia sighed,  _Keith, um._

Allura shot him a questioning look. He pointed at his phone and shook his head. He crossed an arm over his chest, "What is it? It's the middle of the school day."

_Keith, it's Lance._

His whole world slowed. Everything went silent. The bustling of the school faded away, leaving just Keith in an empty bubble. He lowered his eyes to the ground as he failed to find his voice. Those three words could mean many things. All of them bad.

_He's been in a car accident. He's at Arlington right now._

Keith's heart stopped. He slowly fell to his knees as his phone slipped from his hands. Allura and Shiro ran over and knelt down beside him, but their voices were just empty blobs. Forearms to the floor, Keith brought his forehead down to rest between them. His breath came in sharp gasps. He didn't realize he was crying until he saw drops on the floor.

_This can't be happening. It has to be a dream. Lance is fine._

Shiro picked up Keith's phone and spoke to his mother. He listened for a minute before sighing and covering his face in his hands. He hung up and stuffed it into Keith's bag.

Shiro lifted his shoulders and shook him. "–eith! Keith!"

Keith was brought out of his daze, locking his frightened eyes on Shiro. He shook his head, "I heard her wrong."

"No, you didn't." Shiro spoke in an authoritative stone voice. "You need to go. Now."

Keith blinked a couple times, "What happened?"

"Damn it, Keith." Shiro shook him again. "Lance was in a car accident."


	20. Please Be Okay

Keith burst into Lance's hospital room with tears in his eyes. His breath hitched and his heart dropped to his stomach. Lance's forearms we're wrapped in a beige bandage, one lying across his chest and the other on a pillow. His legs were coated in white gauze and wraps. Keith could see the red soaking through them. Lance's cheeks were painted with skid marks. His eyes were closed; dark bruises framed them. Melodic beeping pounded on Keith's ears as they filled the room. A woman sat in a chair next to Lance, holding the hand in the pillow. A man sat on the couch by the window with his head in his hands.

Keith didn't know if they stared at him when he walked in; his eyes stayed locked on Lance. He dropped his bag on the ground and inched his feet toward him, mumbling to himself. "No, no, no."

He walked up to Lance and held his black and blue face in his hands. It was broken. The road and glass and metal had all ruined it. His face was so beautiful, but now it was just sad. Keith hiccuped a sob and brought their foreheads together. He took in a sharp breath and whispered to him. "Please be okay."

"Mmm," Lance groaned and opened his black eyes. He blinked a few times to adjust to the light. His voice was jerky and exhausted, "Keith?"

"Lance!" Keith gently brought him into a hug, lowering his chest to the bed so Lance didn't move much. "You stupid son of a bitch!" He moved away and held his face. He stared into his eyes with anger and relief, "Don't you ever die before me."

A tear fell from Lance's eye as he brought a weak hand to Keith's face, "You're here?"

"Yes, I'm here." Keith glared into his twinkling dusty blue eyes, "And I'm so mad at you."

A smile formed on Lance's chapped cut lips. "You're cute when you're angry."

Keith's eyes clamped shut as they squeezed out more tears. He cried and pitifully hit Lance's shoulder, "You can't do that to me! I'm supposed to die before you! I'm the one with–" a sob stopped his words, "I'm the one with cancer!"

"Keith lo–" he coughed, causing Keith to immediately focus all his attention on him. Lance wiped a tear with his thumb, "I was trying to get back to you."

"What?!" Keith's voice was erratic, constantly changing in tone and volume.

"I," he brought in a strained breath, "I don't hate you. I was trying to," he took another breath, "trying to go back and tell you that I–" Lance started coughing again, bringing his other hand to in to clutch his chest.

Keith tugged on his collar, "That you what?!"

Lance caught his breath. His sparkling irises looked up at him with pure happiness. "That I want to stay."

Keith stared at him for a silent second. Then his face scrunched up as he cried out, "You could've done that without getting hurt!" He hit his shoulder again, "You stupid, arrogant–!" He kept striking him, "dangerous piece of shit!"

Lance brought his arm around Keith's neck and pulled him to his chest with a laugh. He sniffled, "I'm so stupid. I let you think I hated you." His grip tightened, "I should never have left you."

Keith latched onto his chest, letting tears soak his clothes. "If you ever die, I'll never forgive you!"

Lance let out a strained chuckle and stroked Keith's hair, "Okay." Keith felt his head turn, "Mamá, ¿puedes dejarnos en paz por un minuto?"

Lance's parents exited the room with Krolia and left them alone. For a while, Keith just stayed leaning on his chest. Then Lance loosened his hold, "Keith, come up here."

Keith gave him a surprised look, "What?"

Lance patted the bed, scooting over as much as he could, "Come up here."

Keith continued to stare, contemplating whether or not he wanted to. Lance was hurt. He didn't want to injure him more.

Lance tilted his head, "It's not as bad as it looks." He patted his chest, "I don't even have any broken ribs." He pointed at Keith, "And you're tiny."

Keith scoffed and shook his head in thought. He turned back to a teary-eyed Lance. Lance's lips quivered as he pleaded with him. "Please? I was so scared."

Keith checked to make sure the door was shut, then he slowly climbed up on the bed. He sat on the edge and kicked off his boots before turning around. Lance had his arms open to allow access to his chest, which Keith happily took. They nuzzled together and got as comfortable as possible.

Lance tightened his grip on Keith's shoulders and let out a sharp breath, "I didn't want to cry in front of my parents."

Keith's eyes widened and he pulled away to look at Lance's face. Tears crossed over the bridge of his nose and weaved into the pillow. Keith stared in surprise, "Why are you crying?"

Lance covered his eyes with the backs of his bloody hands. His voice quivered, "I thought I was gonna die. I thought I was never going to see you again." He bit his lip and swallowed hard, "That you would hate me forever."

Keith shook his head in disbelief. Lance thought he hated him? How could he? Keith took his hands off his face and kissed his forehead. "I'm right here. You're okay now."

Lance sniffled and nodded his head, "Yeah."

"Yeah," Keith snuggled back into his chest and closed his eyes. He was hesitant to get in the bed, but now that he was he refused to leave for any reason.

"Hey Keith?"

"Hmm?" Keith looked up at him with soft eyes.

Lance lifted his chin and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. They pulled a few centimeters apart for a second, then returned to deepen the kiss. Keith could taste the iron from Lance's rough cuts. His hands held Keith's neck and threaded into his hair. Lance was sweet and kind. He was strong for everyone and never complained. The most considerate, loving, caring, beautiful person. He was everything Keith wished he could be.

Lance slowly pulled away, letting their lips reach for each other. He let out a soft chuckle, "That's how it should've gone."


	21. Break My Heart Again

Lance lowered a fry to Keith's mouth, "Come on."

Keith gave him an annoyed glare from his chest, then looked back to his phone.

Lance used his other hand to pet his hair, "Keith, you have to eat something."

"No," he kept his eyes on his phone as he let out a pitiful response. His lips pouted as he nuzzled his cheek into Lance's chest.

Lance sighed and and tossed the fry back onto the styrofoam tray. "Keith," he brushed his oily black hair with his fingers, "you've been here for a whole day. You need a meal," he flicked his nose, "and a shower."

Keith lowered his phone and wrapped his arms around Lance's waist. "I'm not leaving this bed until you do."

Lance's heart melted at the sight. Keith had stayed at the hospital since he found him. He refused to leave the bed, causing the nurses to scoff and work around him. Lance's parents didn't mind it too much, and just left them alone as much as possible. Krolia checked in every once in a while, bringing Keith's meds and offering to take him if he was too much of a bother. In response, Keith would always latch onto Lance's chest and shoot them glares; like he would bite their arm off if they dared to remove him. Most of the time, he would either sleep or play on his phone while Lance watched tv.

Lance's injuries weren't severe. Lots of bruising and cuts and a sprained ankle, but no broken bones. It helped him to have Keith there with him. He was never alone and always had someone to hold as he slept.

Lance's mother walked in at placed a hand on Lance's shoulder. "M'ijo," Her face lit up with a motherly smile, "they're discharging you tonight."

"Oh," Lance hesitated with his question. He took a glance down at Keith, then opted to Spanish. "Where am I gonna go?"

She scoffed, "Well home, of course."

Keith's eyes switched between them with a confused and concerned expression. He tightened his grip and leaned in closer.

"Um," Lance swallowed hard. He knew it wouldn't be good to leave Keith here and go back to Tennessee. Most of all, Lance didn't want to. "Can I talk about it with Keith?"

Her eyes sharpened, "Why do you have to talk with him? I'm taking you home, no discussion."

Lance brought his arm down to lie across Keith's, "I can't just leave him, Mama. Just let me talk to Krolia."

She clicked her teeth and took a frustrated breath, "I'll check with your father, but you're coming home." She exited the room and shut the door behind her.

"What did she say?" Keith spoke in a soft and warm tone.

Lance brought him into a tight hug, "They want to take me home."

"What?!" Keith pushed himself up to look down at him. "No, I–!" He bit his lip as his eyelashes flickered. "I don't wanna leave you!"

"I know," he cupped his cheek in his hand. "I'm gonna talk to Krolia."

Keith gave him a questioning look, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Krolia picked up a pink and grey striped bag, "And here is all your meds. I know you know the schedule, but I wrote it down anyway." She placed it into the cranberry-colored suitcase. "Don't worry about school, I've talked to your teachers."

Keith sat cross-legged on the bed as she showed him all the stuff she packed. Lance held one of his hands as his own parents gathered his things. He had gotten changed into normal clothing and received crutches for his ankle. Since he refused to leave his side, Keith helped Lance into his clothes then changed his own. Lance tried not to stare, but ended up failing miserably.

Even though Keith wore black Under Armour boxers, and definitely identified as male, a baby pink lace band wrapped around his chest. After close inspection, Lance noticed it was a small floral bralette. It complimented his light skin beautifully. Lance thought it was cute, but also unbearably sexy. He always thought he was straight, but obviously he wasn't. Keith was thinner than Lance had originally thought. The cardigans he wore gave him a straighter shape, but in reality his waist was thinner than his hips. His ribs and collarbones stretched his skin, showing off prominent features.

Krolia gave him a hug, then kissed his forehead. "You be good and don't cause trouble."

Lance's mother knocked on the open door, "We should get going if we want to be there in the morning."

Keith and Lance sat in the back of the car, Lance with his head in Keith's lap. Keith stroked his hair as he fell asleep. Lance stared out the window from his position as soft Spanish music played over the radio. He was happy with Keith. More than he had ever been. It sounded naïve, but looking up at Keith's sleeping face resting against the window Lance knew he meant to be with him.


	22. Blue House

Lance lived in a big, three story house with a backyard and toys on the porch and scattered in the yard. The outside was baby blue with white trimming and shutters. Two younger children, a girl and a boy, ran around the grass with toy planes in their hands. An older girl and guy sat on the porch step, turning to notice the car pulling up. Keith recognized them, but couldn't remember where. Lance opened his door and waited for his mother to grab his crutches.

Keith put on his Vogmask, laced their hands together, and leaned into his shoulder. He was an only child, but Lance had numerous family members.

Lance turned and kissed the side of his head, "Don't be nervous."

"Too late," Keith scoffed.

Lance slipped out of the car and took his crutches. He motioned for Keith to come out with a wide smile. The afternoon sun shone through his hair and brightened his cheeks. He was a guardian angel. Keith slipped out of the car through Lance's side and hid behind his shoulder. His parents grabbed their bags and headed inside as the two children ran up to them screaming, "Lance!"

Lance opened his arms, his shoulders restrained by the crutches. "Mia! Pablo!"

They hugged his legs and screamed various questions. Mia made eye contact and tugged on Lance's shirt, "Lance, who is that?" She pointed at the jumpy Keith. Her skin was slightly darker than Lance's. Coils of brown covered her shoulders and fell over her face.

Lance turned and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, "This is my friend, Keith."

"That's Keith?" Pablo leaned toward him with a judgmental stare. His coiled blond hair sat on his head like a frayed knot. His skin was light, unmatched with the rest of the family.

"Yes." Lance turned to Keith and motioned to them, "Keith this is Mia, my younger sister. She's five. And this is Pablo, my younger brother. He's nine."

They both gave a small wave and a bright hello. Keith waved a timid hand down at them.

"Why's he wearing a mask?" Pablo leaned closer to inspect it.

"Well," Lance dramatically returned his hands to his crutches, "we better get settled inside. It's been a long drive." He directed Keith to the porch.

The girl that was sitting on the porch opened the front door for them, "This your boyfriend?"

Lance chuckled, "Hey Pidge." He turned to acknowledge the boy, "Hunk."

They all went inside and helped Lance up to his room. Keith focused on keeping his body as close as he could to Lance as they walked. Lance's room was painted a blue. He had a reddish dresser on the right and a matching desk to the left of the entrance. In the upper left corner was a queen-sized bed with blue and red striped bedding. Various trophies and pictures littered the shelves and walls. It reminded Keith of baseball season.

Keith jumped up on Lance's bed and sat on his knees. Lance sat next to him and propped his crutches against the wall. Pidge sat on his desk, kicking her feet while Hunk sat in the chair.

Pidge leaned forward to inspect Keith, who cowered behind Lance. "You're tiny."

"Smaller in person, huh?" Lance teased him with a ruffle of his hair.

Keith nodded, "Hi." He pulled his sleeves over his hands and gave a small wave, "I'm Keith."

"Aww!" Pidge looked to Hunk. "He's cute!"

"So," Hunk tilted his head and flicked his finger between them, "what's your guys' relationship?"

Keith's face puffed up in a blush as Lance stammered out, "Well, we're just friends right now."

Pidge wiggled her eyebrows, "Right now."

Lance threw a pillow at her, "You stop that!" He sweetly rubbed Keith's thigh and chuckled, "Alright guys, I love you but I'm exhausted. I'll call you and we'll hang out."

Pidge jumped down from the desk and tossed the pillow back, "Sure you will."

When they left, Lance wobbled over and shut the door. He flopped down on the bed and sighed, rubbing his eyes. Keith kicked off his shoes and took off his Vogmask to curl up next to him, "I like your friends. They're fun."

"You think so?" Lance turned his head.

Keith leaned up to kiss him, "Yeah."

A smile tugged on Lance's face, "Do that again."

"Do what?" Keith kissed him and smirked. "That?"

Lance laughed and brought his hands up to hold Keith's jaw. He lifted up to his knees and rolled on top of Keith. He stopped and stroked his cheeks, "Is this okay?"

Keith giggled and brought Lance's head down to lock their lips together. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders and used the free hand to cradle his head. Lance's hands held Keith's hips and tugged on his belt loops. Keith opened his mouth to let Lance's tongue in and ran his hands down his chest.

Lance's door opened as an older girl entered, "Hey, Lance I didn't get to–" she squealed and jumped back out to slam the door.

Keith had covered his face in his hands as Lance shouted, "Anabelle!"

"I'm sorry!" Her voice was muffled by the door, "I didn't know you brought a girl home!"

Lance facepalmed as Keith hid his blushing face. He was screaming in his head. He peeked through his fingers, "I forgot you had siblings."

Lance sighed and scratched his head, " _I_ forgot I had siblings."

Keith gasped and removed his hands from his face, "She thinks I'm a girl."

Lance nodded and clicked his teeth, "And she thinks you're a girl."


	23. Dinner With The Family

"M'ijo!" Lance's mother called from downstairs. "Dinner!"

Lance tapped Keith's arm, "Hey, you wanna help me out of here?"

Keith looked up from his chest and whined, "Why? It's comfy here."

"Is it?" Lance raised a teasing eyebrow and brought his hands up to tickle Keith's sides. "Is it still comfy?!"

Keith flinched in laughter, smacking his hands away. "Okay! Okay! I'll get up!"

Lance's dining room was painted a warm yellow. They displayed an array of family pictures ranging from school photos to old Polaroids. Keith took special interest in an older photo of Lance. He stood above a younger girl who sat at the table. A cake with flashy candles and the number eight was set in front of her. Behind the chair, a group of family members squeezed themselves into the shot.

A small, simple chandelier hung over a large table fit for eight people. Keith could see scuff marks on the backs of the seats and puppy bites on the table legs. Several platters of varying designs and an array of foods Keith had never seen were littered across the oak. Mismatched plates were placed in front of each chair with scratched silverware to accompany them.

Lance's mother held a dish high to avoid dropping it on Pablo, bringing it to the table. She shouted at various people in Spanish while continuing to set the table. Lance's father ran over and lifted Mia up playfully, sitting her down in a chair. Pablo jumped into the chair beside her. Lance discreetly took Keith's hand and brought him to the opposite side and found their places–Lance in the middle and Keith on the side. His mother adjusted various things as everyone reached for the plates of foreign food.

Keith clutched his small pink and grey bag in his lap and leaned toward Lance to whisper in his ear. "Can I have some water? I need to take my meds."

Lance dropped what he had picked from the platter onto his plate and stood up. He quickly kissed his hair out of habit, "Of course." When he realized what he did, his face reddened a little and he just pretended it didn't happen. He exited the dining room into the kitchen.

Keith stared at his bag to keep his face calm, but mostly to keep himself ignorant of anyone that saw. Lance returned shortly and set a glass of water in front of his empty plate. Keith smiled up at him, "Thank you."

Lance averted his gaze and stammered out, "Yeah, no problem." He sat down and kept his hands off the table.

Keith had noticed the little action the first time he did it. Lance refused to start eating before Keith did. He found it cute and considerate. The pill bottles rattled as he went through his list of meds. Mia was too young to know it was rude to stare, but everyone else just took sneaky glances as he did it.

Lance turned to him, "Is there anything you can't eat?"

Keith zipped up his bag and set it down by his chair leg. Lance quickly picked it up and set it in his lap, "Ah, someone might step on it down there."

"Uh," Keith's hand resisted the urge to grab it, "I don't want to be difficult."

Lance shook his head, "I'll hold it. It's not a bother at all." He smiled, "So food?"

Keith eyed all the plates. None of it made any sense to him. His meals were all planned ahead and pretty uniform every week. Everything on that table was alien to him. He lowered his eyes and tugged his sleeves over his hands, "I don't know what any of this is."

Lance rubbed Keith's thigh in reassurance, "That's alright. What can you not eat?"

"Um," Keith pulled on his sleeves more, curling his shoulders up, "I can't have really greasy food. It's best if it doesn't have a lot of sugar or salt–ah, but that's not a big deal. Um, I don't eat spicy food either. Uh, hmm."

"Keith," Lance raised an eyebrow at him, "you're not going to offend anyone. Don't force yourself to eat stuff you can't. Just tell me."

Keith nodded and kept his head down, "Okay. Um, It needs to be healthy food. Like a lot of fruits and vegetables. It's best if they aren't covered in salt and butter. Uh, no spicy or heavily seasoned food–bland is better. And I need protein, but I don't really like beef. Yogurt is really good, too."

Lance smiled at him and scanned the plates, "Okay." He clicked his teeth in thought and picked little bits of a few piles and set it on Keith's plate. "Um," he turned to him, "Do you like watermelon and almonds?"

Keith nodded with a worried expression. He hated being difficult. It was embarrassing and isolating when his meals had to be made separately.

"Alright." Lance jumped up and walked into the kitchen.

While he was gone, a thin girl with dark skin and curly black hair walked in on her phone. She was dressed in yellow high-waisted shorts and a baby blue tank top. Keith watched her with curious eyes. She took a quick glance up at him, then did a double-take with scrunched eyebrows. Their eyes were locked for what seemed like minutes before Lance returned with a small Tupperware of watermelon and a yogurt with almonds and cinnamon sprinkled on top. He set them on Keith's plate with satisfaction and sat down in his chair.

The girl from before plopped into the chair across from him with her phone still held up–eyes locked on Keith. She tore them away to look at Lance. "Oi hermano," she tilted her phone screen toward Keith, "who's this you got here?"

Lance finally noticed their silent standoff. His smile screamed  _fuck._ "Uh," he picked up his fork and stabbed a piece of meat, "This is my friend from Texas." He lowered his voice and brought the fork to his mouth, "His name is Keith."

She tilted her head as her face filled with disbelief, dropping the phone to her thighs. Her eyes switched between Keith and Lance in questioning realization.

Lance turned to Keith and pointed to her with his fork, "This is my older sister, Anabelle." He glared at her, "Our little surprise guest."

Keith's face immediately puffed up in a wild blush. He clamped his mouth shut and lowered his head.  _Oh shit. Oh fuck._

Anabelle squinted at Lance and mouthed:  _What the fuck?!_

Lance forced a smile and mouthed back:  _Keep your mouth shut!_

Keith kept his head down and picked up his spoon to nibble at the yogurt, "Thank you for the food. Sorry for the trouble."

Lance took another bite and shook his head, "Keith, it's really not a big deal."

"It is to me!"

"So Keith," Lance's mother engaged their side of the table. Her long black hair was tied up in a messy bun. A motherly smile painted her face. "You're still in high school, correct?"

Keith's voice was timid and low. "Yes, ma'am."

"What grade?" His father chimed in to the conversation.

"Uh," Keith tugged on his sleeves, "I'm a junior."

"Oh?" Lance's mother tilted her head. "How old are you? You look much too young!"

"I'm almost eighteen, ma'am."

Lance set a hand on Keith's thigh under the cover of the table, "He's super smart, too! He got a thirty-two on the ACT!"

Lance's father flashed a teasing smile and pointed his fork at Lance, "You should be getting those scores, m'ijo."

Lance rolled his eyes and chuckled, "Yes, Papi."

After dinner, Keith helped Lance back to his room. When he sat down on the bed, he wrapped his arms around Keith's shoulders and pulled him back onto the stripes. They laughed about it and fought with teased pushing. When they calmed down, they lied facing each other on either pillow.

Keith scrunched up his nose, "Your sister is freaked out."

"Nah," Lance dramatically shook his head, "She's cool."

Keith tugged the pillow out from under him and slapped Lance with it, "You're delusional!"


	24. Short and Sweet

Keith stretched his arms and yawned deeply, squinting against the glow of the tv. He relaxed with an audible sigh, "Alright, Lance."

Lance looked at him from the side, "Hmm?" He set down the controller in his hands, "Tired?"

"Yeah," he nodded. He tucked his hands into his crossed legs. "Where am I sleeping tonight?"

Lance gave him a confused look, "What?"

"Where should I sleep?"

He raised his eyebrows and leaned over to lie his head on Keith's thigh, "Here." He shrugged. "You slept in my hospital bed."

"Yeah, but that was in a hospital." He glanced at the door, "Is that really okay? Your parents don't care?"

Lance shrugged again, "They didn't say anything about it, so I'm guessing they don't." He smirked and reached a hand up to stroke his cheek, "As long as we're quiet."

Keith blushed and smacked his hand away, "You little–!"

Lance laughed at his embarrassed blush and lied his arms across his chest. "I'm just joking."

Keith pushed his head off and retreated under the blanket, "No you weren't!"

Lance lied on top of the heap, "Hey~"

Keith ignored him and curled up tighter.

"Babe~" he inched his hands up to the top of the blankets. "Keith~"

Keith tightened his grip, "No!" His voice was muffled by the blanket. He laughed, "I've made a home here!"

Lance's voice turned serious, "Hey."

Keith dropped his smile, "Now you're freaking me out."

"It's just–" he sighed, "You don't want to?"

Keith whole face went up in red, "What?! Really?"

"Well," Lance stammered, "I guess?"

The blankets were hesitantly lowered as Keith poked his eyes out, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Lance averted his gaze and shrugged. His bare shoulders glowed from the remains of their video game. His hair was messy and his cheeks were flushed.

" _You_ don't wanna?" Keith kept his nose and mouth covered as he stared at him.

Lance scrunched his eyebrows together and stuttered, "What–uh–yes?"

"You think I'm weird?"

Lance tugged down the blankets to uncover Keith's cheeky smile, "You're messing with me!"

Keith chuckled, "A little bit."

Lance couldn't keep the smile off his face, "I'm trying to be serious!"

He snickered, "Okay, I'll stop." He bit his lip to hide the smile, laughing into the back of his teeth.

Lance glared at him with a teasing face.

Keith burst out laughing, "Sorry!" He covered his eyes with his half-hidden hands, "I was just surprised!"

Lance lied down on his chest and looked up at him, "You didn't answer my question."

Keith took a deep breath to compose himself. "Well, I mean, we're not technically together yet."

"Do you want to be together?"

Keith uncovered his eyes to a wide-eyed Lance staring up at him. His irises held constellations in their deep blue. He shrugged, "Of course I do."

Lance lifted himself up and crawled forward to look down on him, "So do I."

"So," Keith looked down, eyes landing on Lance's chest, "That's it then?"

His lips tugged into a curious smile, "What do you mean 'that's it?'"

Keith pouted his lip, "No big romantic gesture? Or speech?"

Lance motioned to his body, "Is this not enough?"

Keith yanked the other pillow up and shoved it in his face, rolling them over. When he was sitting on top, he removed the pillow and set it aside. He crossed his arms, "I'll be expecting dates. And flowers. And surprise kissing."

Lance ran his hands over Keith's thighs, "So that's a yes?"

Keith smiled and dropped to his hands, leaning down to bring their lips together. It was slow and sweet. He gradually pulled away, "To the boyfriend status." He leaned back down with a smirk, keeping their lips centimeters apart. "As for the sex," he snatched the pillow back and pushed it into Lance's face. He rolled over to his side and let go, "Go to sleep, hotshot."


	25. The War Over The Mountains

Keith woke up before Lance. He was curled up in his arms, cheek against his chest. The curtain was pulled back, so the sunrise washed the room with reds and golds. They all shone on Lance's skin and radiated an angelic glow. Lance kept his lips parted when he slept. His eyes rolled from side to side and his eyelashes fluttered. Keith felt calm and safe in his arms. He nuzzled his face into his skin and breathed in his scent. That was something different about Lance. No, not different. Distinct. His terracotta skin was weaved with sunlight and flowers. Keith first noticed it in the hospital, but he assumed it was the plant gifts he received. Sleeping next to him then confirmed what Keith knew was true.

Keith uncurled his arm and placed his hand on Lance's cheek. A deep breath filled his chest and hugged Keith. Lance adjusted his position, holding him tighter and bringing Keith's hand back to his chest.

A smile warmed Keith's face. His lips let out a whispered tune, "Guess I never change." He chuckled at himself then closed his eyes, hoping to catch a little more sleep in Lance's arms.

He opened his eyes to a bright field. He was lying in a bed of orange flowers looking up at a powder blue sky with wisps of cream. Rays of sun were cast down on the bright grass. A gentle wind carried petals of purple and red across the field. Keith turned his head up to scan his surroundings. Hills and mountains of beautiful flowers acted as a barrier around him. Above them, clouds of black and grey puffed up into the sky. A screen of flashing red and orange lit up the hilltops.

Keith looked beside him to see Lance gazing up at the sky with a content smile and light blush. The flowers surrounding him were yellow and bright blue. The sun curled itself into his hair and stroked his skin. Lance noticed Keith's stare and looked up at him. Strands of his creamy brown hair fell over his nose with the movement. His smile faded slightly as he did, yet his cheeks remained flushed. The color of his eyes matched both the stunning beauty of the scenery and the horrifying war behind the mountains. Both sides of the same coin.

Lance's lips parted and moved as if he said something, but it was inaudible.

Keith scrunched his eyebrows together, "What?"

Lance repeated his words slower, but he still couldn't hear him. He looked up to the mountains, red reflecting in his eyes.

Keith followed his gaze and looked over the hills. A fire had started to climb over them and burn the flowers and beautiful grass. Keith's eyes widened as he turned back to Lance.

Lance gave him a faint smile and opened his mouth again.  _Look over there._

Keith jolted awake and sat up holding his chest. It was all a dream? Why? What did it mean?

"Are you alright?"

Keith turned his head to see Lance pulling a shirt over his shoulders. A concerned look was painted on his face.

Keith held his head and let out a weak sigh, "Yeah, just a dream."

Lance limped over and sat down on the edge of the bed, "What was it about?"

Keith thought over what happened. He didn't remember much–it was all too fuzzy. He recalled the flowers and fire and what Lance said. Keith held a hand to his chin, "Look over there?"

Lance cocked his head and furrowed his brow. Keith lifted his head and scanned the room. Fire? What did that mean? Nothing was out of place. Lance's room was just that–a bedroom.  _What am I supposed to–_

His eyes landed on a certain object on top of Lance's dresser. Keith's mouth fell open. He kept his eyes locked on as he pulled the blankets off and maneuvered his way over to it. Sitting peacefully next to a stack of cd cases was a small, worn stuffed lion. Keith lifted his hand and gently picked it up with the tips of his fingers. He held its sides and stared into its black button eyes. Keith's voice was a breathy whisper, "You kept it."

Lance popped over his shoulder, "Whatcha doing?" His eyes met the lion's.

Keith turned to stare up at him, "You kept it." He took in a shaky breath, "When I was in the hospital the first time, my parents gave me this." His eyes widened, "It helped me get better, so I thought it could help make you better."

Lance locked gazes with him and joined in. They spoke simultaneously, "I hope you wake up soon so we can play together."

They stared at each other for what seemed like hours. After forever, Lance finally opened his mouth again, "It really  _was_ you."


	26. Fire Bones

Keith swung Lance's hand in his as they sat in the coffee shop chairs. Books and papers were sprawled across the table, covered in pens and highlighters. Pidge and Hunk debated over something in a book while Lance tried to keep them focused. Keith took a deep breath and adjusted his Vogmask.

Pidge slapped her hand on the table, "No it is not! You have to do the exponent before you multiply them!"

Hunk shook his head, "Not when you're working backwards!"

"Oh my god," Lance groaned, "shut the fuck up already! The answer is 43.7."

Keith let out a small giggle at the scene, gaining the attention of everyone. He cowered when they all stared. Pidge pointed her pen at him, "Maybe he knows."

"Don't pull my boyfriend into this," Lance leaned his elbows on the table.

Pidge scoffed and turned to Hunk, "I fucking knew it." She tossed her pen down and crossed her arms.

Lance blushed, "Wait–that's not–!"

Keith laughed harder at the embarrassed Lance, holding his stomach. He sighed to catch his breath and looked to Pidge, "Actually that became official only a few days ago."

"So he finally gained the courage." Hunk joined in the teasing.

Keith smiled wide under his mask and nodded, "Yeah, he did."

"This is not what we're supposed to be doing right now!" Lance held his head in his free hand.

Pidge dramatically shut her book, "Yeah, this study session ended a long time ago."

Hunk gathered his things, "Agreed."

Pidge unzipped her backpack, "You guys wanna go get ice cream?"

"I would love to!" Keith leaned forward in his chair.

Lance threw his hands up in defeat, "Fine! Let's get some ice cream!"

The group left the coffee shop and walked down the sidewalk. It was a cool day, but the sun was out, casting down hot rays onto Keith's skin. He lifted his free hand to feel the warm light. The ice cream parlor was only a few blocks away, so they weren't walking for a long time. Pidge chose a small cup of pistachio; Hunk got a large cup of birthday cake; Lance picked a cone of cotton candy; Keith landed on a waffle cone of butter pecan. While licking the cone and walking down the sidewalk, Keith noticed his breathing was getting heavy. It was a normal occurrence, so he brushed it off.

"I'm so not ready for exams," Lance shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"That's because you hang out with us," Pidge shot him a playful look, "and you hate studying."

Keith considered putting his mask back on, but it was in Lance's bag and he didn't want to bother him. He had ice cream to eat as well.

Hunk turned to walk backwards and face the group, "You guys wanna play Fever at Pidge's house?"

Pidge punched his arm, "You can't just invite people to my house!" She shrugged, "But the offer still stands. What do you guys say?"

"That sounds fun," Lance nodded and licked his ice cream. "What about you?" He squeezed Keith's hand.

Keith was half-listening, "Um, yeah that sounds cool." He stopped eating to catch his breath.

"So everyone is in agreement," Pidge turned back around, "Cool. Let's go–"

Her voice faded out as Keith's ears filled with the sounds of the violent air in his chest. His muscles started to ache and his joints felt hot and sharp. He shook his head to clear his blurry vision.  _This isn't right._ His rib cage felt like it was cracking under a stiff pressure. He stopped walking and gasped for air.

Lance's hand fell from his. He turned to see what happened, "Keith?"

"Lance," Keith clutched his neck and shook his head as his voice strained, "Something's wron–" He was cut off with a wheezing cough. He let go of the ice cream and fell to his knees as his legs gave out.

"Keith!" Lance dropped down next to him and put his hands on his shoulders.

Keith braced himself with his hands as he struggled for air. A splatter of blood fell onto his sleeves and sidewalk. This wasn't normal. He took a sharp breath, "Lance, this isn't–" he was cut off again by strained breathing.

"Pidge!" Lance turned to her, "How far is your car?!"

Her voice was panicked and shaky, "Oh! Uh, just up the block."

"Alright," Lance put Keith's hand over his shoulder and laced his arms under his knees and around his back. "Let's go."

Keith's arms hung limply over Lance's shoulders as he ran. His chest was tight and filled with a stabbing pain. All the bones in his body felt like jelly and red-hot iron. Everyone got into Pidge's car and she drove to the hospital while Lance yelled at her to go faster, holding Keith to his chest.

Lance kissed his hair, "Just hold on." He hugged him tighter. "We're almost there."

Keith wheezed, a tear falling down his cheek. "It hurts."

"What hurts?"

Keith sobbed and tensed his legs up, "Fucking everything."

Lance swallowed hard and kissed his head, "Do you hear my heartbeat?"

Keith squeezed his eyes shut and frantically nodded.

"Good," he pulled Keith's head to his chest, "Just focus on that." He stroked his hair, "We'll be there soon."


	27. Fickle Game

Keith was transported back to Texas after being stabilized. Even then, he crashed multiple times during the flight. Lance begged and cried to his parents all night to let him go, but they refused. Exams were in two days. He  _had_ to take them. No excuses.

Lance lied in his bed and stared at the wall, clutching the stuffed lion to his chest. The sight of blood running down Keith's chin was printed on his eyelids. He knew next to nothing. He had no idea if Keith was even alive right now. The worst part was that he couldn't do anything about it. Keith was so scared, but he couldn't save him. Would that be the last he ever saw of him? Is he never gonna see his angelic smile again? No more of his long fluttering lashes? Lance couldn't be at his side because of a  _fucking test_? If this was how things were going to be, he didn't want to go to school. He wanted to drop out and run to him. He wanted to defy his parents and drive off with his middle finger up.

Lance took a deep breath. He knew he was being irrational, but he didn't care. Just two more days. Two days and he can go. He whispered a prayer, "Please hold on until I'm there."

Pidge and Hunk gave him space the next day. They were just as worried; and wanted room to think as well. Keith had quickly become the group's ray of sunshine. When he collapsed, their world shattered. It was like seeing someone who's always happy and strong suddenly break down in tears. School and eating and sleeping and living in general all became unimportant. The only thing they wanted to do was beg for Keith's life to any god that would listen. The entire day went by in a fuzzy blur.

"You will have forty minutes to complete the last section," a packet was placed on Lance's desk, "do not start until I tell you. Do not look at previous sections."

Lance stopped listening to the routine instructions he had heard over a million times and stared at his name written on the grey paper. Forty minutes. Forty minutes and he can go to Keith.

The test administrator returned to her desk and looked at her watch, "If you finish before the time, you may turn in your booklet and answer document. Then, you may leave. Your time starts now."

Lance ripped open the booklet and flew through the questions. Getting them  _all_ right wasn't top priority. He had already wasted two days, he couldn't spare any more. By the time he got to the last ten questions, he just filled in all As and closed the books.

Lance finished the test in twenty two minutes. He practically threw the booklet onto her desk and ran out of the room, snatching his backpack as he did. He got to his car and sped out of the parking lot. A suitcase sat in his back seat; a plane ticket in hand. He spent the flight picking at his nails and holding back the urge to punch someone. Lance went straight to Arlington. Nurse Mack was in the front; he greeted him enthusiastically and led him to Keith's room.

Keith lied in his hospital bed with his eyes gently closed. The blinds were open, flooding the room with sunlight that brightened his deathly pale skin. He was in a hospital gown, so Lance could see how thin his arms actually were. Keith's skin was stretched over thin, brittle bones that fought against it. His obsidian hair looked more depressed than usual, even if his face was content. Various wires sprouted from his arm and clipped to his finger. They filled the room with a deafening concert of melancholy beeping.

Krolia stood from the chair next to Keith's bed and walked over to Lance, bringing him into a motherly hug. She sniffled a few times and held him tighter. Lance stayed limp in her arms and kept his unblinking eyes on the small rising of Keith's chest.

Krolia pulled away and wiped her cheeks. She motioned to the door and whispered, "Let's talk outside. I don't wanna wake him."

Lance obliged, leaving his suitcase inside the room next to the sink. The two stood in a tense silence for a few minutes before Lance finally spoke up. "Is he okay?"

"Oh honey," Krolia chuckled through her tears, "he–well, he should return to normal after a while of rest."

Lance kept his eyes on her shoes and crossed his arms, "What happened to him?"

She sighed, "Just a little infection and exhaustion."

A tear fell from Lance's eye and crashed on the dull tile. His voice shook, "Is it because I didn't keep his mask on?"

Krolia's face dropped. She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned down to his level, "Of course not, sweetie." She bit her lip and gulped, "Sometimes these things just happen. There's nothing you could've done."

"I could've–" he shook his head in thought, "I could've kept him home with me and–and made sure he got the right food and plenty of rest." He let out a pitiful sob, "I could've made everyone sit down instead of walking through town!"

Krolia yanked him back into a hug and rocked him. She shushed and pet his hair.

He cried, "There's so much I could've done!"

"Oh, Lance." She cradled his head. "Even with that, he could've still gotten sick." She pulled back and moved the hair from his eyes, "Do you remember what I told you about leukemia?"

His eyes fell in recollection, "Oh god, he's in the blast phase."

She forced a smile and nodded, "Yeah. He is." She cupped his cheek, "And that means he will get sick a lot easier and a lot more often."

"Isn't there something they can do?!" He looked up at her in desperation, "Isn't he on another treatment?! I mean, there's new meds and chemo and–just–there just had to be something they can do!"

Lance could see Krolia's heart break right in front of him. He heard the shatter and watched the pieces crash to the floor. Krolia spoke in a shaky mumble, "You don't know."

Lance's breath hitched. Tears had stained his cheeks and collected on his jaw. "Know what?"

"Lan–" she was interrupted by a pitiful sob. "Lance," her mouth quivered as she spoke in a broken whisper, "Keith was put into Hospice."

It took a while for the words to register in Lance's mind. His whole world stopped. The heart in his chest fell silent. "No." More tears fell to the floor like bombs. He brought his hands up to rest in his hair. "No." His voice tightened up and quivered. "No." Lance glanced back at the door and shook his head. "No. No. No."

Krolia removed her hands from his arms, "I'm so sorry, I thought you knew." She covered her face with her hands. "There's nothing else they can do for him."

"But–" he lifted his hands in protest, fighting to sort out the jumbled mess in his head, "But what about chemo?!"

Krolia's lips pushed into a thin line as her eyes fell. She slowly shook her head, "He refused it."

"Then what meds is he taking?!"

She shrugged, "Mostly painkillers."

Lance's face scrunched up in heartbreak, "No. He can't be–he–!" He sniffled and clamped his eyes shut, "That's why he was so upset."

Krolia hesitated, "Yes."

Lance wiped his cheeks and went back into the hospital room, leaving Krolia in the hall. He stared back at the peaceful Keith as he walked over to the side of the bed without wires. He carefully pulled back the blanket and pushed Keith over to create room. Lance kicked off his shoes and lied down next to him, wrapping his arms around Keith's frail body.


	28. Act Four - In My Body

Keith fidgeted as he slowly woke, stretching his arms and yawning. He touched something warm and pulled his hand back to find the source. Lance had made himself a spot next to him on the hospital bed. Keith thought he was dreaming for a second, but quickly realized he wasn't. He pushed himself up to sit and looked down at him. Hesitantly, he touched Lance's cheek with the tips of his fingers.

Keith finally noticed the time. The room was dark, but the various machines casted a faint blue glow into the thick air. He turned back to Lance and poked his shoulder. "Lance."

Keith repeated the action. "Lance."

Lance groaned and blinked the sleep from his eyes, "Mm–what?"

A wide smile pulled on Keith's lips, "You're here."

His eyes finally adjusted to the light and looked up to him. "Of course I am." He rolled onto his side and lifted his hand to cup Keith's cheek. His voice was laced with sleep. "I'm always gonna be here."

Keith gazed back lovingly, "You're so cute."

"Come here." Lance pulled him down, but Keith fought against it.

"Wait! I have morning breath."

Lance snickered, "I don't care." He brought Keith into a soft kiss. Keith slid his legs down to lie next to him and wrap his arms around his neck. The kiss deepened as Lance ran his hands over Keith's waist. Lance rolled over to hold himself above him. Keith laced his fingers into his hair and cradled his head. They pulled away for a second, keeping their foreheads connected.

Keith's lashes flickered up to Lance's eyes, "Do you wanna?"

Lance chuckled in disbelief, "What?"

Keith repeated himself, slower this time. "Do you want to?"

Lance's eyes squinted in a curious joy, "Keith, we're in a hospital." He inspected his face, "Wait, are you high?"

Keith giggled, "I'm on so many drugs right now." His fingers trailed down Lance's abdomen, "So I don't care if we're here."

Lance snatched his wrist and held it down to the bed to restrain him. "Alright," he scolded, "We're saving you for marriage."

Keith stared up at him with sparkling eyes, "Then marry me."

Lance shook his head in amazement, "Oh my god, you are so high right now." He rolled back to his side and let go of his wrists.

"I'm serious," Keith whined. He turned his head to face him, curling up on his side. "I'm dying anyway."

Lance stared at the ceiling and took a deep breath. He turned to look at him with concerned eyes. "Keith," he spoke in a low whisper, "why didn't you tell me you were in Hospice?"

Keith's mouth opened to respond, but quickly shut. He couldn't find the words. Lance was too important to him. How could he ever tell him he gave up? How could he say it and bear all the disappointment that festered into his beautiful blue? Keith didn't want to tell him because then Lance would always hold that against him–and he couldn't handle the torture of it. Instead of responding, he turned over and faced the other way without a word. Looking at Lance would only bring pain now. He wrapped his hands around his stomach and curled his knees up. "I'm tired."

Lance sighed and rubbed his face with frustrated palms. "Alright." He put his arm over Keith's waist.

Keith pushed his arm off and tensed up.

"Oh, Keith," Lance returned his arm to his waist and held him to his chest. "I'm not mad." He kissed his hair, "I could never be mad at you."

Keith's throat tightened, "Even though I gave up?"

Lance nuzzled his forehead into the back of his neck, "You didn't give up. That's not what Hospice means."

Keith turned back around to look into his eyes, "But what if I meant it like that?"

Lance's eyes inspected him carefully. They were full of softness and care. "You didn't."

"But what if I did?"

He shook his head, then brought a hand up to stroke Keith's cheek. "You've fought this your entire life." His fingers wrapped around the back of Keith's head and pulled it to his chest. "I could never be mad that you wanted to simply live instead of fight." Lance squeezed his waist and kissed his hair. "How could I be mad that you're tired?"

Keith's eyes teared up. He latched onto Lance's shirt and made himself a home in his chest. He linked their legs together and melted into him. "This means I'm gonna die."

Lance's chest soothed Keith with all the vibrations of every word he spoke. "Even with treatment, you could die tomorrow."

"Why don't you just leave me? Go and find a beautiful girl and live your life." Keith clamped his eyes shut. Every sentence broke his heart; but if Lance could be happy, then Keith would give him up in a heartbeat. "Just go live a life you love."

Lance leaned back to look down at him. He lifted his chin and gazed into his eyes, "You  _are_ my life; and I love you more than you know."

Keith swallowed his tears, "Don't be naïve. We've only known each other for like three months."

Lance flashed a gentle smile, "That's a lifetime for you."

Keith took a deep breath, holding back the urge to smile. "You're crazy."

He laughed, "Oh, definitely." He leaned down to kiss Keith's chapped lips. "Doesn't mean it's not true." Lance's deep blue locked onto Keith's crystal violet, "I love you; and I'm sticking this out until the end–whenever that may be."

Keith lowered his gaze. His lips quivered as he hesitated. "Then," he gathered up all the courage he could. His eyes returned to Lance, "Then marry me."

Lance chuckled as the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile, "That again?"

Keith bit his lip and nodded. "I'm serious this time."

Lance blew air out through his teeth, "And  _I'm_ the crazy one."

"I'm," Keith pitifully hit his chest, "being," another hit, "serious."

Lance caught his hands and laced their fingers together, "Okay. I hear you and I see you."

"You sound like a therapist."

Lance's chest bounced with a laugh, "A good one?"

Keith groaned,  _"Marry me!"_

Lance gently closed his eyes and took a happy breath. "Hmm...let's talk about it tomorrow. I promise we'll talk about it seriously."

Keith lowered his chin and stared up at him, "If I wake up and you're gone, I'll hunt you down and chop your dick off."

Lance unlaced their fingers and wrapped his arms around Keith's shoulders. "No need to worry." He gave him a quick goodnight kiss and settled into bed. "I'll stay in this bed for as long as you do."


	29. All of the Days and All of the Nights

Krolia rushed around the room gathering all of their things. A wide smile of faint lip gloss showed off her coffee-stained teeth. She stuffed a jacket into her bag, "Keith, do you see anything else?"

"Mom," Keith sat up on the bed as Lance brushed his hair, "I'm not even sure I'm being released today."

"But I do!" She spoke in singsong. "Nurse Mack let me in on it."

Keith rolled his eyes and turned to Lance, "Hey, can you get me something to eat from downstairs?"

Lance set the brush down on the end table, "Yeah." He jumped up, "What do you want?"

Keith smiled up at him and shrugged, "Anything is fine."

"Okay," Lance leaned down to give him a quick kiss, then left the room.

Keith listened to his steps get further. When he was far enough away, he turned to his mother. "Hey Mom?"

"Yes, sweetie?" She tossed a small pink bag into her purse.

"I wanna ask you something. It's kinda important."

Krolia locked eyes with him, then cautiously sat down on the couch. "Okay," she leaned onto her knees, "I'm listening."

"Um, okay, I know it sounds crazy." Keith tucked a few strands of hair behind his ear. "But," he took a quick breath, "would you, maybe, let me–um–" He cut himself off to blow air through his teeth.

"Keith, what is it?" Her eyes were laced with concern.

"Uh, would you," he spaced out his words way more than he needed to, "maybe let me marry Lance?"

She stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. Keith tensed up in confused worry. Krolia waved him off, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She rubbed her face and groaned, "I just thought you were gonna ask me something terrible."

"So," Keith cocked his head, "so what does that mean?"

Krolia took a happy breath to compose herself. "Keith," she placed her fingers on her chest, "I love Lance. He is an amazing young man."

"Is–?" A smile tugged on his lips. "Is that a yes?"

Krolia stood and brought him into a hug, "Of course I would!" Keith hugged her back as she pet his hair. "Have you guys been talking about marriage?"

"Well," Keith pressed his cheek into her stomach, "I mentioned it last night. He wanted to wait to talk about it seriously." He kept his arms around her waist and looked up, "I think he wants to check with his parents before he promises anything."

Krolia continued to pet his hair, "How do you know?"

Keith's face formed a blushing smile, "Because that's the kind of person he is."

Keith was discharged that night just like Mack had told them. They pulled up to his house and unbuckled their seatbelts. Lance launched himself out of the car and ran to Keith's side.

Keith laughed at him as he opened his door, "What are you doing?"

Lance kneeled down and outstretched his arms, "I wanna carry you."

"Like a prize?" Keith shook his head in amusement.

Lance smirked, "Like a bride."

Keith burst out laughing. "Alright," he wrapped his arms around Lance's neck, "That was smooth as fuck."

"Thank you," Lance picked him up and shut the car door with his leg, "I try."

Keith and Lance picked out their pieces of pizza. They sat next to each other at the dining table. Keith spoke with his piece in his mouth, "Thank you, Mom."

Lance nodded, "Yeah, thanks Krolia."

She patted their shoulders, "No problem boys."

When she stayed, Keith gave her a  _go away now_ look.

"Well, boys," she tapped their shoulders again, "I gotta–uh–go do some work." She left while shooting curious "mom" looks at Keith until he was out of sight.

They sat in silence as they ate until Lance opened his mouth. "You want to talk don't you?"

Keith relaxed and groaned, "Yes!"

Lance dropped the pizza he was eating back onto his plate and wiped his hands. "Alright," he took a sip of his drink, "Go ahead. I'm listening."

Keith sighed, staring at him with pouted lips. He spoke in a quiet whine, "Marry me."

Lance flashed him a smile and stroked his cheek. "You still want to?"

Keith placed his hand on the back of Lance's and held it to his cheek. "Yes." He kissed his palm and mumbled, "I said I was serious."

"I know," Lance sighed.

Keith raised his eyes to him, "You  _don't_ want to?"

Lance shook his head, "It's not that. Don't you worry your pretty little head." He leaned forward and kissed his forehead, then connected it to his. "I have to go back home–"

Keith's eyes widened, "No!"

"Shh," Lance's fingers silenced his lips. "It's only for a day or two, then I'm here for summer."

Keith nuzzled their cheeks together and laced his fingers into his. "When do you leave?"

He kissed his cheek, "The sooner I go, the sooner I get back."

Keith fought back the urge to cry, "I don't want you to leave."

"I know, baby." Blue locked into violet. "But I have to. Only a couple days, I promise."

Keith curled himself into Lance's chest. "Then," he trailed off in thought, "then leave after I fall asleep."

Lance gave him a warm smile, "Do you want to go upstairs, then?"

Keith nodded and pushed himself further into Lance's chest. Lance laced his arms under his knees and picked him up. He set Keith down on his bed, then lied down next to him. Keith latched onto Lance's chest and held him tightly. Lance chuckled and pet his hair, "I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."

Keith fell asleep around nine. Lance stayed with him until nine-thirty; then untangled himself from his grasp. If he drove all night and got home in the morning, he could be back in less than two days. That depended on how the visit went, of course. Lance left his suitcase and covered Keith with his jacket before he left. As much as it hurt to leave him, he knew this could be the last time.

Lance started the car and closed his eyes. He took a long breath and whispered to himself. "The last time."


	30. Marry?!

"Lance!" Keith sprinted out of the front door to greet him, running barefoot on the morning dew of the front lawn.

In a sleepy haze, Lance caught him as he jumped up and wrapped his legs around Lance's waist. "Well, hello there."

Keith wrapped his arms around his neck and held him tightly, "You're back."

Lance chuckled, "I wasn't gone that long."

Keith pulled back and cupped his cheeks, "Four days." He leaned down into a deep kiss, "Too long."

Lance pulled away to yawn. Keith took note of it, "You look like shit."

"Yeah," he laughed, "I need sleep."

Keith drooped his arms over Lance's shoulder and rested his head. "I'll sleep with you."

Lance took in a breath of Keith's peppermint-scented hair. "Oh, I'm so happy to be back here with you." He walked inside and started up the stairs, still carrying Keith.

"Tough time?"

Lance sighed and entered Keith's room, "Ah, I guess." He lied Keith down on the bed, then plopped down next to him. "I'm alright now, though."

Keith nuzzled his cheek into Lance's chest, "I'm glad."

As Lance fell asleep, the previous days replayed in his mind over and over.  
  


"Mama?!" Lance called for her as he burst through the front door, tossing the keys on the entryway table.

Anabelle was sitting on the couch; she looked up at him as he walked in. "Well, welcome back. Where's your boyfriend?"

Lance waved her off, "Not now, Anabelle." He inspected the room, "Where's Mama and Papi?"

She shrugged, "I think they're in the kitchen."

Lance ran through the kitchen door to find them enjoying their morning coffee. Anabelle followed him out of curiosity. His parents looked up and smiled at him when he came in. Lance's mother outstretched her arms, "Oh, m'ijo! What are you–"

"Mama," Lance cut her off and leaned against the counter. He kept his voice stern, switching his stare from his mother to his father. "I wanna marry Keith."

Anabelle threw her hands up, "What the fuck, Lance?!"

He turned to point a finger at her, "You stay out of this."

Lance's mother gasped and clutched her chest, "Marry?!"

"M'ijo," his father gave him a stern look, "You can't marry someone just because you feel sorry for them."

Lance furrowed his brows in an intense frustration, "Why the hell would you say that?! Of course I'm not gonna marry him out of pity!"

"Why the fuck do you want to?!" Anabelle shoved his arm.

Lance pushed her back, "I told you to shut the fuck up!"

"She has a point, Lance." His father stood and leaned toward him, "If it's not out of pity, then why?"

Lance's jaw tightened. He stared back with matching intensity, "Because I love him–" Anabelle muttered an 'oh my god' and his mother gasped. Lance raised his voice, "And he's  _dying._ "

"He's being treated, though!" Anabelle yelled at him.

Lance groaned and spun around to face her again, "I'm gonna give you one more chance to shut the fuck up."

"But he is!"

"He's in Hospice, Anabelle." Lance looked at all of their eyes.

She crossed her arms, "What does that mean?"

"It means he's not being treated anymore." Lance waved her off, "Now go away."

"Lance," His father put his hands on his hips, "I've put up with you going to that boy for far too long. You know how we feel about him."

"Yeah!" Lance leaned into his face. "And I think your opinion is bullshit!"

"M'ijo," Lance's mother placed a hand on his shoulder, which was promptly shaken off. "We've kept our mouths closed and allowed you to be with him, but this is too much."

"No," Anabelle threw her arms up, "Maybe you should just let him! His boyfriend's gonna be dead soon anyway."

"First of all," Lance pushed her back, "Fuck you. Second of all," he shook his head in confusion, "Thank you?"

Lance took a deep breath to recoup. He knew this was how the conversation was gonna go; and he didn't want to waste any time. He calmed down a little and looked at his parents, "We're both seventeen, which means we need your permission as well as Krolia's."

Lance's mother crossed her arms, "And what did she say?"

"She's already agreed to it."

"Of course she has." Lance's father rubbed his face and groaned, "That woman has no sense. That boy needs a father."

Lance chuckled in disbelief, "Are you serious?! His dad is working all the time to pay his medical bills. And he's a damn good father." He shook his head, "It's a simple request. I want your permission to marry Keith."

His father shook his head, "It's not that simple, m'ijo."

"Um, yeah it kinda is." Lance tapped his chest, "It's my life. I'm almost eighteen, but I'm not sure if he'll make it that long."

The room held tense silence for a minute. Lance waited in frustration for any sign of an answer.

Lance's father clicked his teeth, "We will talk about this later. I have to go to work." His statement disbanded the group.

Anabelle shoved Lance's arm as she walked out, "You're so fucking insane."


	31. He Fights Fire

Lance took a long drag of his Marlboro, letting the smoke sting his throat. He sat out on the back porch steps in the evening sun. Ashes fell as he flicked them off his cigarette.

"I thought I would find you here."

Lance turned around to see Anabelle walking up to him. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and sat down next to him. Lance pulled the cigarette away when she reached for it, "What do you want?"

Anabelle sighed and locked her fingers around her knees. "I wanted to ask about something."

"Shoot."

"When did you know you were gay?"

"I'm not gay," Lance took a drag.

"Well," she tilted her head, "then when did you know you liked guys?"

Lance let out the smoke slowly and deliberately. He took a moment, then replied. "Looking back, I began to develop feelings for Keith when I first spent a few days at his house, but it was just because I thought he was cute. Then when I left, we talked over video chat all the time. That's when I actually had feelings for him." He took another drag, "But I didn't realize it until he kissed me."

" _He_ kissed  _you_?!"

"Is it that hard to believe?"

"Well," she trailed off, "I guess not." Her eyes shot back at him and she smirked, "Did ya' guys fuck?"

"First of all," he leaned back onto his hands, "None of your business. Second of all, no."

She raised her eyebrows, " _Have_ you guys fucked?"

"No."

She scoffed, "Well, why not?!"

Lance shook his head, "It's complicated."

Anabelle sighed and leaned her head on her elbow. "It's not  _that_ complicated. You just put your dick in his–"

"Anabelle!" Lance glared at her. "Let it go."

She sat in pouting silence for a few minutes. Lance put out his cigarette and fiddled with his hair. 

Anabelle raised her eyebrows, "Do you want  _him_ to put  _his–_ "

"Alright," he stood up with a grunt, "We're done here."

"Wait!" She latched onto his jeans, "I'll be serious now. I have something else I came to ask about."

Lance took a frustrated breath and sat down. "What?"

"Is he," Anabelle shifted her weight as she cut herself off. "You see, the first time I saw him was when I walked in on you guys making out. Of course I though it was a girl, but then I saw him at the dinner table." She shrugged, "I guess what I'm trying to say is: I don't really know this guy. And your coming out to me was so unexpected."

Lance lowered his eyes, "So, what does that mean?"

"I just," she trailed off. After a moment, she turned to Lance. "Why do you want to marry him? The real reason."

Lance locked eyes with her, "The full truth?"

She nodded, "One hundred percent."

Lance took a deep breath to compose himself and sort through his words. "Keith is–well, he's a special guy." A smile formed on his cheeks, "Not only is he so very cute, he's also loving and cares about me so much–probably more than I do him, if I'm being honest." Lance loosely hugged his knees, "I love him. A lot. I know that sounds naïve, but I'm not going to waste time being rational when he's already got so little."

"Hmm," she eyed him, "I guess that makes sense." She chuckled, "Should I ask how long you guys have been together?"

"No you should not," Lance laughed.

"Alright," she looked down with a smile on her face. "So what's with this medical thing?"

Lance cocked his head, "Hmm?"

"The hospital thing."

"Oh," Lance looked to the sky, "Hospice."

"Yeah, that!" She snapped her fingers playfully, "What is that?"

"Well," Lance's eyes drifted in thought, "It's what someone does when they just want to live out their life instead of fighting with treatments and doctors and stuff. Like quality of life over quantity."

"So," she trailed off, "Then what does  _that_ mean? For Keith."

"It means that instead of doing chemo and fighting his cancer, he's taking painkillers and antidepressants." Lance fiddled with his jeans. "To keep him happy until his cancer finally kills him."

Anabelle frowned, "But that's sad."

Lance took a breath and squinted, "Eh, not really." He looked at her, "He's happy. And he  _chose_ that. I'm not really sad about it."

"But that means he's gonna die."

"Everyone dies."

"But that means he's gonna die before you.  _Way_ before you."

Lance swallowed hard, "I don't want to think about that. I just want to give him everything he wants."

A hint of a smile tugged at Anabelle's face as she stood up. She brushed herself off and walked to the door. Before she opened it, she turned around. "Hey Lance?"

Lance looked back at her, "What?"

She gave him a bright smile, "You're gonna be a good husband."


	32. Will You Let Me?

"I just," Lance's father motioned with his hands, "I just want to understand."

Lance sat across from his parents at the dining room table. He had been there for two days already, and he yearned to return to Keith. He took a frustrated deep breath and brought his elbows onto the table. "I love him."

"You're seventeen." He countered.

"Doesn't mean it's not true."

Lance's father shot a look at his mother and shrugged, sitting back in his chair. She took over, "M'ijo, I–we just want to know why you insist on  _marrying_ him. Aren't things good the way they are?"

"I love him." Lance stared at them with an intense blue. "Mama, Papi," he spoke with his hands, "I can walk away at any time right now. It's Keith's biggest fear. If I wanted to, I could leave him without a word and never look back." He paused and looked into both of their eyes, "Marriage is a promise. A commitment. I want to give him solid proof that I'm staying until the end. This is the way I know how–as well as the path I wish to take." He clenched his fists, "You asked me why, and that's why."

His parents looked at each other and talked through their eyes.

Lance could feel his chest tighten, "Please? Will you help me?"

Lance's mother took control and sat forward. "What then? How will the wedding go? Where will you live? Do you have a ring picked out? What about school?"

Lance was taken aback. His mother never stood up to him. Actually, she was scared of him. It gave him a nice feeling to see her standing up for herself for once. Lance couldn't hide his smile as he returned his forearms to the table. "I'll have to live down in Texas with him. He's getting all of his medical care at Arlington. Moving would be stressful on his body." Lance took in a drawn-out breath and prepared for the backlash. "I would transfer to his school. We would go together. If that doesn't work out, then I can do homeschooling with Krolia."

Lance's mother chewed on the inside of her cheek in thought. She fiddled with the ring on her finger and kept her eyes down. "And the wedding?"

Lance was expecting a big argument over school, but it never came. "We would have to go down to the courthouse, since Keith gets tired really easily."

"No, no," she waved her finger. "No son of mine is having a courthouse wedding. I will take care of that." She finally lifted her eyes to meet his, "What about the ring?"

Lance shook his head, "I haven't had any time to look. And I wanted your permission first."

Lance's mother looked over at his father as she fiddled with her necklace. She returned to Lance, "What about kids?"

Lance chuckled in disbelief and shook his head. "Mama, I  _am_ seventeen."

"But if you did," she ran her tongue over her lips, "would they go to church?"

Lance swallowed hard and shook his head, "Keith isn't religious, but if you wanted to take them, I would let you."

She took a long breath and turned to his father. She spoke quietly, "I'll agree."

"You can't be serious," Lance's father leaned forward, "This is not who we are!"

Lance's mother placed a hand on his arm and shook her head. "There are some battles we have to fight." She shot a smile at Lance. "This is not one."

Lance's father huffed. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. "Lance," he turned to him, "I will agree–but only if you can answer this question honestly and correctly."

Lance felt a small bout of nerves build up in his hands. "Okay. What?"

He took a pause for dramatic effect, "Have you slept with this boy?"

Lance's eyes widened, "Uh–wait, why–why is this relevant."

"It's something we must ask you." He lifted a hand in defense. "I'll admit, I didn't think you would be the first child we would ask."

Lance's mouth hung open in surprise and confusion. "What?"

Lance's mother stepped in. "It's not personal! Your siblings will be asked the same question when they get engaged."

Lance's father rolled his eyes, "Just answer me."

"Uh," Lance shook his head, "No. We agreed to wait until marriage."

Both of them let out a sigh of relief. Lance's father held a hand out for him. Lance hesitantly took it and they shook hands.

Lance's father gave him a gentle smile, "You're a good son and a great man." He brought his free hand to the handshake. "I'll allow you to marry Keith."

"Thank you," he looked to his mother, "Both of you."

"Now that's over," she stood up, brought her hands up to her chest, and looked at him with hopeful eyes, "Can I help pick out the ring?"


	33. Eric

"Lance!" Keith pounced on his arm, shaking the bed in the process. "Lance, wake up!"

Lance groaned and rubbed his face. He looked up to Keith, blinking the sleep from his eyes. "Hey, baby."

"We slept all day," Keith whined and pouted. "It's almost seven now."

"Seven p.m.?"

"A.m."

Lance jumped up, "Oh wow. I've got stuff to take care of today." He slid out of the blankets and sifted through his suitcase.

"Like what?" Keith sat on his knees on the bed and stared at him with pouted lips. "Can I come?"

Lance tugged a shirt over his head. He walked back over to the bed and kissed Keith's forehead. "Unfortunately, no." He stuffed his feet into his boots, "But I'll be back soon, I promise."

Lance ran errands and made calls all day. As much as he wanted to be with Keith, he had to do a few things first. As evening approached, he showered, slicked his hair back, and got into his favorite brown suit. He slipped back out without Keith noticing his outfit and headed into the city.

Lance admired the restaurant's shimmering chandelier and elegant architecture as he waited. It was classy. Perfect.

The chair across from him slid out, "Sorry I'm a little late."

"It's no problem at all, Mr, Kogane."

Keith's father had a rich southern accent and a bright smile full of southern charm. He donned a black suit and briefcase–obviously coming straight from court. "Please, Eric is fine."

Lance gave him a smile, "Of course."

"Ah," Eric sighed as he sat down and relaxed. He leaned his elbows on the table and laced his fingers together, "We haven't gotten to talk very much, have we?"

Lance chuckled, "No, we haven't."

"I'm a little disappointed in myself," he took a sip of his water, "Fathers are supposed to chase off their kid's boyfriends."

Lance waved him off with a laugh, "Well, I'm no trouble."

Eric let out an amused laugh, "No, you're a great man. Keith definitely cares for you."

"And I, him." Lance added.

They continued small talk until their food came. Then, they joked around while they ate. Lance's nerves slowly subsided as he talked with him, but quickly came back as Lance set down his fork mid-meal.

"So Eric," Lance puffed his chest and held his head up. "As I'm sure you've guessed, I've invited you here for a specific reason."

Eric's mouth tugged into a curious smile, "I figured." He paused his eating to give him all his attention.

Lance nodded and took a few seconds to compose himself. He locked eyes with him and spoke clearly. "So, Keith and I had a special reunion, as I'm sure you've heard all about. Keith knew me when I was a kid. He," A blushing smile formed on his cheeks, "He came to see me whenever he could. He talked to me, kept me company, and gave me gifts.

"What I'm trying to say is: Keith stayed by my side throughout my coma. I'm convinced that's the sole reason I'm alive today." Lance clamped his hands together to hide their shaking. "I want to do the same for him. I want to stay with him through everything; bring him an immense amount of love and support; and give him everything he wishes for.

"Sir," Lance took a breath and composed himself, locking eyes with him. "I would like your permission to ask Keith to marry me."

Eric clicked his teeth and inspected Lance's face. His eyes felt like ticking time bombs; his lips a loaded gun. "You want to marry my boy, huh?"

Lance gulped and nodded, "Yes, sir." A smile warmed his face. "I love him, so much."

The corners of Eric's mouth twitched. He chuckled and lowered his gaze for a second. When his eyes returned to Lance, he smiled at him. "An idiot could see that Keith loves you, too." He nodded, "I think you guys are the definition of a perfect couple."

Lance couldn't hide his excitement. His eyes teared up, "Thank you so much."

Eric gave him a nod. He reached for his fork and returned to his food, "Have you talked to your parents, yet?"

"Yes, I have." Lance continued his meal as well. "They weren't open to it at first, but they came around."

"Hey Lance?"

"Yes?"

"Quick question." Eric ran his napkin over his lips.

"Okay," Lance gave him his full attention.

Eric leaned forward and squinted at him in observance. "Will you be taking our name, or will Keith be taking yours?"

Lance flashed a wide smile, "I'm glad you asked."


	34. The Picnic

"Keith?" Lance resisted the urge to rip off his blindfold. "Where are you taking me?"

Keith led him by his hand, "Just shut up and trust me."

Lance could tell they were outside by the feeling of the morning sun on his skin and the wind that took it away. He heard the various scuttling of birds and squirrels. "Are we there yet?"

"Oh my god." Keith tugged him harder for a few more seconds, then stopped and tore off Lance's blindfold.

Spread out in the bright grass of a clear field was a white and grey striped blanket with matching pillows. Laid on top of it was a large basket and a bottle of sparkling cider. Lance's chest warmed up as he watched Keith excitedly wait for his reaction. He could see his smile under his mask.

"It's a picnic." Keith couldn't sit still. He tugged Lance down to the blanket, "C'mon, sit."

Lance sat down and gave him a wide smile. He brought his hand up to stroke his cheek, "You are so cute."

Keith looked down to blush and lean into Lance's touch. "I haven't been able to be by your side the past few days." His smile dropped, "I've been worried."

Lance pulled him into a gentle kiss. "There's nothing to worry about." He returned to his seat and rubbed his hands together. "So what do we have here?"

"Well," Keith dramatically lifted the basket lid to reveal a few platters of waffles, muffins, and berries. He tilted his head, "It's a breakfast picnic." Keith reached in and set out the various foods onto the blanket.

Lance decorated his waffles with strawberries and honey. Keith dressed his in an overwhelming amount of maple syrup. Lance snickered, "I don't know how you eat that."

"What?" Keith shrugged and removed his mask to lick syrup off his fingers. "It's good."

"Sure," Lance took a bite of his waffles. They were fluffy and warm. He smiled and pointed at them with his fork, "Did you make these?"

Keith nodded, "Of course I did." A stream of syrup dropped from his fork as he took a bite. "Oh," he reached over and fiddled with his phone and a Bluetooth speaker, "We need music."

A sweet melody of a gentle male voice flooded from the speaker and onto the blanket. Keith's taste in music was special and distinct. While Lance preferred hip hop, Keith had a passion for smooth alternative songs. It matched his precious attitude and adorable appearance. Every song that played seemed to be about him or their relationship. It was something straight from a movie scene. Everything was perfect. The way the sun made his hair glow; the calming aura; the cute quirks Keith displayed. It was all Lance wanted. What he lived for.

Keith licked his lips and set down his fork, "Okay."

Lance repeated him in a teasing whine, "Okay."

"Stop," Keith slapped his hand with a playful giggle. He shifted to sit on his knees and took a breath. "Serious time."

Lance held back a laugh and nodded, "Serious time."

"Um," Keith averted his gaze and blushed. He tugged his sleeves over his hands, "So I've been thinking about things." He motioned to Lance. "About us." He sighed, "And–" He cut himself off and chuckled.

Lance reached over to pat his thigh, "What is it?"

Keith blushed harder, "I–uh–I really like you. A lot." He locked eyes with him, "I love you."

Lance's eyes widened in surprise, "That's the first time you've told me that."

Keith nodded, "Well, that's because–" he trailed off and reached back under a few pillows. His hands were wrapped around a small black box, covering it almost completely. "I, uh, I wanted to–well–" He pulled up the top and to reveal a silver ring with a band of brown covered with a design of gold.

Lance clicked his teeth and shook his head in disbelief, "You little shit."

Keith's shoulders tensed up with anxiety, "Huh?!"

Lance chuckled and reached into his jacket pocket. "You ruined my perfect plan." He opened a dusky blue box to show off a halo cut diamond ring on a thin band.

Keith's face dropped as he stared at the ring, bright eyes filled with surprise. He brought his hands up to cover his mouth. He looked up at Lance, "You want to marry me?"

Lance huffed, "I was  _gonna_ propose first, but you beat me to it!"

They laughed at the situation in both embarrassment and surprise. Keith gasped for breath, "Oh my god! I don't even know what to do now!" He slapped Lance's arm, "Why did you take so long?!"

Lance talked through his laughing, "Well, I had to get permission from my parents and Eric!"

"Eric?" Keith tilted his head. After a second his face dropped in realization, "You asked my father for permission?!"

"Of course I did!"

They laughed harder, clutching their stomachs and rubbing their eyes. Keith groaned, "You are so cliché! I can't believe I fell in love with you!"

"Well," Lance motioned to the ring in a confused shrug, stifling his laughs, "Do you want it or not?"

"Oh my god, of course!" Keith reached for it, but Lance pulled it back and removed it from the box himself.

"Here," he picked up Keith's left hand and slid it on his finger. "There we go."

Keith admired it for a second, then motioned to his own box. "Do–uh–do you want yours?"

Lance held out his hand toward him, "Give me the ring, Romeo."

Keith giggled and slipped it on his finger. "This is so insane."

Lance lifted his hand to admire the gold in the sunshine. "Which part?"

"Fucking all of it." Keith fiddled with his own ring.

They sat in silence for a moment to admire their new gifts. Lance kept his eyes on his hand. "Hey Keith?"

Keith's eyes were glued to his finger, "Hmm?"

"Do you wanna know the craziest part?"

Keith finally looked up at him, "What?"

Lance locked their eyes and smirked, "We're gonna be married seniors."

Keith let out a small gasp, "Oh my god." He covered his mouth with a dramatic hand, "People are gonna ask questions."

Lance snickered, "They're gonna think we're brothers."

They burst out in laughter once more. It was a moment Lance would never forget. Ever. Nothing was better than being with the love of your life and knowing you'll be together forever–as long as forever lasts.


	35. Engagement Period

The engagement only lasted six weeks. Lance's mother took care of the wedding details while Krolia decided on decorations and location. Keith was hesitant to the idea of a Christian wedding–due to Lance's family–but agreed as long as it wasn't in a church. Krolia picked a beautiful spot that overlooked a mountain range. The guest list was limited to Keith and Lance's families, Shiro, Allura, Hunk, and Pidge. Shiro would be Keith's best man while Pidge would be Lance's best woman. The rest of the wedding party consisted of Lance's cousins or siblings.

Lance and Keith both refused bachelor parties, deciding instead to spend as much time together as they could. Keith didn't like parties–especially his own. Lance didn't see any point in saying goodbye to being single, since he couldn't remember how life was without Keith. Lance's parents gave them a night out with a nice dinner and moonlight walk over the bridge. They kissed under the stars and danced above the water.

"I feel like blindfolds are the theme of our engagement." Lance sat in the car with covered eyes.

"Well, I guess so." Keith squeezed his hand, his own eyes were covered. He leaned forward, "Hey Mom, where are we going?"

"Yeah," Lance leaned forward as well, "What's going on Krolia?"

"Would you be quiet?" She giggled. "Your father and I are giving you guys your wedding present."

"Now?" Keith tilted his head and sat back in his chair. "The wedding isn't for another week."

"Well," Eric chimed in, "This is something you're gonna need to know about  _before_ the wedding."

Lance clicked his teeth, "So mysterious."

Keith felt the car stop and his parents get out. They each went to one side and retrieved one of them. Keith could feel himself walking in grass as he held onto his mother's arm. "Mom, What are you–"

"Shh!" She stopped and turned his body, then connected his hand to Lance's. "Alright! Take off your blindfolds!"

Keith and Lance used their free hands to tug them off, blinking as their eyes adjusted to the light. They were standing in front of a small powder beige house with white trimming. It was cozy and sweet. Keith cocked his head, "I don't get it."

Eric walked up behind him and placed his hands on his shoulders. "It's yours."

The pieces finally clicked together. He spun around as his mouth dropped in disbelief. "Wait! Are you telling me you bought us a house?!"

Krolia squealed and jumped around as she nodded. "Yeah!"

"Oh my god." Keith covered his mouth. "You didn't." He shared a confused look with Lance.

"My boy," Eric patted his shoulder and stood beside him, "You guys are going to be married." He motioned to the house, "You're going to want a place of your own."

"It's only five minutes away," Krolia reassured them. "We are just down the road."

"Krolia," Lance gave her a worried look, "This is too much."

"No, it's not and you guys are gonna live here." She tossed the keys to him. "Don't you want to see inside?"

Keith and Lance shared a quick look, then ran forward in agreement. The door opened to a spacious room that could easily be a living room. Behind that was a kitchen with an island and eating area. To the right of the living room were two bedrooms with a shared bathroom. On the other side of the house was the master bedroom, half bath, laundry room, and flex space. Lance and Keith thanked them over and over on the way back. Keith had never expected them to do anything as grand as this.

Keith woke up in a gentle haze. He took a deep breath to stretch his lungs and rubbed his eyes. He felt Lance's arms around him and looked over at his face. After being around him more, Keith started noticing the little distinct features he had: acne scars along his chin and temples, a small birthmark hidden behind his jawbone, even little curls in his hair that he fought with every morning.

Keith leaned forward to give him a gentle wake-up kiss. Lance stirred and opened his eyes. He took a breath, "Hey."

Keith's mouth broke into a wide smile, "It's today."

Lance brought his fingers up to stroke Keith's hair. He smiled back, "It's today."

Two loud knocks shook the door. Pidge's voice was muffled by the barrier, "Are you guys decent?!"

"I'm stealing your groom, Lance!" Shiro called after her.

Lance quickly kissed Keith and slid out of the blankets. He jumped into his sweatpants and pulled on a shirt as Keith watched from the comfort of the bed. Lance smoothed his hair and called to the door. "You guys can come in!"

Pidge burst through the door, "Happy wedding day!" She grabbed Lance's arm and tugged him out. "We've got stuff to do!"

Shiro brought in various items and set them on the bed. He motioned to them and looked at Keith, "Let's get to it?"

Keith dramatically rolled over and reached for the door, "My love!" He giggled, "O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?!"

Lance turned around at the top of the stairs and reached back, "My love!" He puffed his chest, "What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?!"

Keith jerked his head to shake his hair, "The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine!"

Lance recited with dramatic arm movements, "I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: and yet I would it were to give again!"

Keith stifled his laughs, "At the altar, my Juliet!"

"At the altar, Romeo!"

Pidge pulled him down the stairs, "You guys are ridiculous!"


	36. The Altar

Shiro brushed through Keith's hair as he sat in his desk chair. Gentle piano music bled through a small speaker. "So..."

Keith scrunched his eyebrows together and kept his head forward. "So?"

"Your wedding, huh?"

Keith let out a confused chuckle, "Um, yeah?"

Shiro paused his brushing, "I mean..."

Keith turned around to look at him. "What?"

Shiro shrugged, "Well, are you sure you still want to get married?" He pointed his thumb to the door, "It's my job to help you run if you want."

Keith playfully slapped his arm, "Don't be my rational side  _now_! Yes, I want to get married!" He stood and lifted his arms, "Now get me ready."

Shiro laughed and retrieved a bottle of foundation from the desk. "Alright."

"Hmm," Keith hummed in thought. "I wonder how Lance is doing right now."

Pidge and Lance tapped their cans together and whooped. Hasta El Amancer blasted through Pidge's speakers in her hotel room as they chugged their sodas.

Pidge finished her drink and slammed it down on the desk. "You're getting married!"

Lance repeated her actions, "I'm getting married!"

Pidge laughed, "You're one crazy motherfucker!"

Lance leaned back in his chair and threw his hands up, "I'm one crazy motherfucker!"

They laughed and cheered as they danced to the music. Pidge gasped for air, wiping her eyes. "Oh my god. This is insane!"

"I know, right?!" Lance spun around, then grabbed her shoulders to give them a shake. "I'm so in love with him!"

Pidge looked down at her watch as she bobbed to the music, "How long until the wedding?"

"I have to be down there at three, I think." Lance pointed at her, "Isn't that your job?"

"Well, duh!" She was spun by Lance. "It's twelve twenty right now, so you can get in your suit. We can play video games after that."

Lance stopped and gave her an excited look, "I can?!"

Pidge giggled, "You can literally do whatever you want."

"Come on!" Lance rushed over to the suit hanging on the bathroom door. "Let's put it on!"

Lance and Pidge got dressed and played video games. They wore navy suits, brown shoes and pink ties with matching pink rose boutonnières. After Pidge annihilated Lance in almost every game, it was time to go to the spot Krolia picked out.

Lance stepped out of the car and admired the beautiful view. Uniform white chairs were lined up in two sections with pink roses and foliage attached to the middle ones. The aisle was dotted with colorful leaves. Lance audibly gasped as he followed them up to the altar. Overlooking a magnificent tree-filled mountainside, silver poles were set up to form a square room-like area that held up powder pink curtains tied back with foliage. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Lance and Pidge walked over to the reception area. A large matte grey dance floor was set up beside tables decorated with white tablecloths and pink rose centerpieces. Lights hung from trees to create a makeshift ceiling with unique chandeliers of wreaths and strings of lights.

Lance walked up to Krolia as she fussed over the setting of the tables. "This is absolutely beautiful."

She turned to notice him, "Oh, Lance!" She gave him a hug. Her dress was a long purple gown with crystals on the short sleeves and neckline. She place a hand on her hip, "I'm glad you like it." She waved at the decorations with a stick of pine in her fingers.

Lance smiled and looked over the area again, "I am amazed."

Krolia checked the time, "Well, I've got less than an hour until the wedding and I'm freaking out."

Lance took her hand, "Don't. Everything is perfect."

She gave him a smile, "Okay, thank you." She crossed her anxious arms, "That's not the only thing I'm worried about."

Lance connected the dots in his head, "Oh, I see." He brought her into a long hug. He let out a happy sigh, "I'm going to take great care of your son, I promise."

Krolia hugged him back and pet his hair, "Thank you, Lance." She pulled away and carefully wiped her eyes, "I'm just really emotional."

"That's alright." Lance leaned toward her and half-covered his mouth to whisper, "Actually, I'm really nervous, too."

"Oh really?" Krolia covered her mouth with a dramatic hand. "I would've never thought," she teased.

They laughed for a minute. Lance was glad she was loosening up. It made him feel better to ease other's worries. He sighed, "I'm gonna cry, I swear."

Krolia eyed him, "I don't know. You seem like a strong guy."

Lance shook his head, "Nah, once I see Keith, I'm gonna lose it."

Pidge trotted up to them, "Who's gonna lose it?"

Lance shrugged, "We're debating whether or not I'm gonna cry."

"Oh, definitely." Pidge nudged his arm. "You'll be sobbing on the ground before he reaches the altar."

Lance scoffed, "Uh, will not!"

Pidge playfully shoved his arm, "Will too!" She turned to Krolia, "What do you think?"

She shrugged, "I have no clue." She tapped her chest, "I just know that  _I_ will be sobbing on the ground before Keith reaches the altar!"


	37. You Are The Reason

Keith took a deep breath as he waited behind a pair of powder pink doors. The rest of the wedding party walked around him and down the aisle he couldn't see, shooting looks of good luck over their shoulders. Keith fidgeted in his tea-length white dress, standing between the evening sun and cool Earth. The off-the-shoulder lace sleeves were a little scratchy. He opted for silver flats during the ceremony and sparkly heels during the first dance to avoid any blisters. His fingers picked at the bouquet of white and pink flowers as he listened to the music change to You Are the Reason by Calum Scott and Leona Lewis.

Eric offered his arm and Keith hesitantly took it. It was time.

The entire morning Keith had been stress-free and cheery, but now he was filled with anxiety. Every negative possibility ran through his head in an instant. What if he rushed this? What if Lance was just doing it because he asked him to? What if Lance didn't actually love him? Who would want to be with a ticking time bomb? Why would anyone subject themselves to a relationship full of pain?

But as the doors opened and he saw Lance's face, all the fears he had melted away. Lance immediately pulled his hands up to cover his dropped jaw. With every step Keith took, Lance's eyes got softer and shimmered with a bigger mixture of love and tears. He lowered his hands a little to laugh and let out happy sobs. He tried to compose himself while tears ran down his cheeks.

Keith and Eric stopped a few steps away from the altar. Lance walked forward, keeping his eyes locked on Keith. Eric turned to Keith and held his cheeks as he kissed his forehead. Keith's chest was shot with a firework of emotions. His eyes teared up as he let out a small sob.

Eric rested their foreheads together and choked out, "I love you, my son."

Keith sniffled, "I love you too, Dad."

Eric took a breath and pulled back. He lifted Keith's hand, then placed it in Lance's. Eyes hard and voice stable, he gave Lance a deep stare. "You take care of my little boy."

Lance bit his quivering lip and nodded, "I will, sir."

Keith gave Lance a teary smile and let himself be led up to the altar. Keith handed his bouquet to Shiro and turned to face Lance and take his hands.

He barely listened to any of what the preacher was saying. All he could do was gaze into Lance's eyes and try to keep himself from crying. Lance, on the other hand, was a sobbing mess. In what felt like seconds, they were putting the rings on each other's fingers and saying their vows. Keith didn't listen to those either. They were the classic cliché ones, so all he had to do was say 'I do' whenever the preacher paused. He just couldn't tear his attention away from Lance's gleaming dark blue eyes.

Before he knew it, the preacher said the final words. "You may now kiss the groom."

They had leaned forward before he had finished speaking. Keith grabbed Lance's cheeks while Lance wrapped his arms around Keith's waist, cradling his head. Sparks crackled and flashed every time their lips connected. The rest of the world melted away, leaving only Keith and Lance to love each other. Lance squeezed Keith's waist and lifted him up to spin around in the evening wind. When they finally pulled away, Keith wrapped his arms around Lance's neck and clung to his shoulders.

Cheering, claps, and sobs from the crowd slowly faded into view as they returned from their high. Keith found a home in the arms that held him so tightly. In the eyes that shimmered just for him. In the lips that kissed him so gently.

The preacher soon realized they weren't separating and let out a defeated laugh. He lifted his arms to frame the couple.

Keith hugged Lance tighter as a wide smile tugged on his cheeks with the very words he had wanted to hear since forever.

"May I introduce: Keith and Lance Kogane!"


	38. This is My Love Song to You

Keith stood leaning into Lance's chest. The sounds of laughing and chattering from the guests enveloped them in a blanket of joy. Keith absolutely loved the hanging lights of the reception area. Everything seemed like some kind of fairytale dream. He heard Krolia's heels click as she ran up to them.

"My baby!" She cooed over them with teary eyes.

"What up, bitches?" Pidge walked up beside them with a glass of sparkling cider in her hand.

Lance lifted a hand to greet her, "What up!"

"Aww!" Krolia pulled Keith from Lance's arm to bring him into a tight hug. "My little boy is married!"

"Mom," Keith strained, "you're crushing me."

She released him with a laugh and smoothed the skirt of his dress. Eric appeared and hung an arm over her shoulder, "How does it feel to be a Kogane?"

Lance flashed a wide smile, "It's the most amazing feeling in the world."

Keith couldn't hide his grin as he turned and pulled Lance's head down into a kiss. "You're so cute."

Pidge gave him a snarky glare, "Guess who called it?"

Lance scoffed, "I wasn't that bad."

Keith burst out laughing, "You were crying more than my mother and your grandmother combined!"

Lance ruffled his hair, "You were crying, too!"

Keith giggled and teased, "But I'm pretty when I cry!"

"You were a blubbering mess," Pidge took a sip of her drink.

Lance shot her a teasing glare, "You shut up."

Keith crossed an arm over his waist and cocked his hip. "It's true."

Lance threw his hands up in defeat, "You know what? That's fine." He brought Keith into a loving hug and kissed his cheek, "Because now I've got the cutest husband in the world!"

The group laughed and took sips of their drinks. They all turned when Hunk's voice came over the speakers, "The lovely couple will now share their first dance as husbands."

Keith and Lance shared a look and headed to the dance floor. When they got to the middle, Lance spun Keith and pulled him close. The noise died down to forest silence for a small moment. Violet and blue stayed locked in a cheeky stand-off as they waited.

The music faded in with a slow and sweet piano melody. Lance took the lead and swayed with the beat. Keith leaned up to keep their foreheads together, tangling their hair into a beautiful dark chocolate. He gave him a small kiss and let his mind wander back over their days. The story of their lives together.

_"Who are you?" Keith's long eyelashes flickered in the cool air._

_Lance stuffed his hands into his jean pockets, "My name is Lance." He pushed through his anxiety and locked eyes with him, "Lance McClain."_

_Keith stared at him for what seemed like hours. Then, his eyes widened. The parts of his cheeks Lance could see went red. Keith hopped back and retreated back inside to shut the door._

Lance twirled him around, causing his dress to flare. When he pulled him back to his chest, he spoke low and soft. "What are you thinking about?"

_Keith took a deep breath and set his phone down on his desk. He used the leg that wasn't tucked into his chest to swing his chair from side to side. Pulling his sleeves over his palms, he hugged his knee._

_"How long are you going to look at it?"_

_Keith looked over to see his mother leaning against the doorframe. He gave her a half hearted smile, "Until he calls."_

"When we first met," Keith kissed his cheek and laughed. "I was so nervous."

Lance's chest resonated with a sweet chuckle. "I have a question."

Keith looked up at him, "Go ahead."

Lance spun him again, "When did you realize you liked me?"

_Krolia had set the table and filled it with various platters and bowls. They sat down next to each other, eagerly reaching for their choice of food. After Lance had filled his plate, he picked up his fork, but stopped. Keith had several orange-tinted or matte-white bottles of pills surrounding his plate. He opened every one fluidly with a straight face. To Keith, this was a routine and mundane action. But to Lance, it was saddening. He set his fork back down and waited for Keith to finish taking them so they could start eating together._

Keith let out an embarrassed giggle, "The first time you waited for me to take my pills before eating."

Lance shot him a look of realization, "You noticed that?"

Keith pulled back and twirled into his arms, "Of course I did." He turned around to face him again, "Why? Did you think you were slick?"

Lance let out a laugh, "Yeah!"

Keith joined in his laughter and caught his breath with a happy sigh. "What about you?"

Lance's eyes widened, "When did I know I like you?"

Keith nodded.

Lance groaned in hesitance, "Well, I didn't realize it until you kissed me." He lifted a hand to brush his fingers over Keith's cheek, "But I started to like you when we watched Dead Poets Society and you talked through it."

Keith snickered, "You kept asking questi..." he trailed off. His face lit up, "You purposely asked questions to hear me talk?!"

Lance twirled him, "Yeah, I did." He gave him a loving smile. "You looked so cute when you explained things so passionately. I didn't care what it was about."

As the song ended, they gradually slowed their dancing. Keith melted into a deep kiss, wrapping his arms around Lance's neck.

Hunk's voice sounded from the mic again, "Lance has asked for his husband to remain on the dance floor for a special surprise."

As Gasolina started blasting through the speakers, Keith whimpered a faint, "No..."


	39. Garter

"What is happening right now?" Keith stood back to inspect the area, lifting his hands in confusion.

Pidge was dragging over a rolling chair with dark shades in place of her usual round glasses. She brought it up behind Keith with a spin. Shiro appeared with the same shades on his face to take Keith's hand and sit him down in the chair.

The music was so loud, he had to shout over it. "What is happening right now?!"

Lance spun around in matching shades and hyped the crowd with whoops and claps. Since it was mostly Lance's family, it wasn't hard for him to get them riled up. He turned and pointed over to Hunk when everyone was at an acceptable volume.

Hunk laughed and spoke in a dramatic announcer voice. "It's now time for the garter retrieval!"

"Oh my god!" Keith covered his blushing face as he remembered the garter on his thigh. Shiro made sure it was there while they were getting dressed—by Lance's order of course. If anyone was going to make this the biggest deal ever, it was him. Keith uncovered his face with an embarrassed laugh. "Right now?!"

Lance sang along and pointed at him in a suave stance, swinging his hips. He flashed a dramatic and dorky dance as he walked around him and teased the crowd. With a cool spin, he turned to face Keith and lower to his knees.

Keith's face was extremely red and his head was screaming. Lance's entire family was staring and laughing. They were all going to watch the  _most sexual_ thing they had ever done in front of them—even the children! It wouldn't have been such a big deal if it was anyone else, but this was Lance. There was no doubt that he was going to make it even more inappropriate than it already was.

Lance pushed up on Keith's knees to reach his face. He gave him a small kiss, "Just relax." With a flick of the wrist he flipped the shades off and tossed them over to Pidge.

Lance fluttered the edge of Keith's dress and smirked. Keith held back laughter and shook his head, "I swear to god, Lance."

Lance reached under the skirt and took one last look at the audience before flipping it over his head. Keith covered his wild blushing to avoid seeing anyone staring at him. Lance's hands slid up his leg slowly and massaged into his thigh. He took his time reaching the garter, choosing instead to rub Keith's leg or rest his cheek on his inner thigh.

He pulled his head out once and pretended to be winded as Pidge slid over and toweled his forehead. Keith rolled his eyes as he returned under the skirt. Again, Lance crawled up his leg and stroked his thighs. Having had enough, Keith slipped a foot out of its heel and mashed it into Lance's abdomen. He stopped moving for a second out of surprise, then laughed.

His hot breath warmed Keith thigh as his teeth latched onto the fabric of his garter. After tugging it down to the top of his knee, Lance let go and left a kiss where it once sat.

Keith's blush deepened as he looked down at his dress and smacked Lance's head through the fabric, "There are children watching!"

To rile him up more, Lance licked his thigh. Keith resisted the urge to beat the hell out of him right in front of everyone. He could feel Lance give a cheeky laugh and continue tugging the garter down his leg and finally off with a dramatic head shake. He gave Keith a sexy look and retrieved the garter from his mouth to spin it in the air with a loud whoop.

Lance's family let out drunken cheers and enthusiastic laughs. He stood and held out a hand for Keith, who reluctantly took it. Lance picked him up bridal-style and spun his around a few times before finally putting him down.

As they pulled apart, Lance whispered into his ear. "Just wait for tonight."

"Lance!" Keith scolded him as he skipped out of reach. "You're so bad!"


	40. Lance

_Lance is gentle._

Keith leaned into the kiss, tugging on his hair to bring him closer. Lance's hands supported his back as his fingers tugged the dress zipper down.

_He always knows what to do._

Lance's breath licked his neck as it travelled down his collarbone. His teeth latched onto the bra strap and tugged. His eyes flashed with a sexy ocean blue.

_Whenever I'm depressed, he's always there. Even when we're states away, he'll show up and rock me to sleep._

Keith let out a small whimper and covered his mouth with the back of his hand.

Lance's concerned eyes shot up, "Are you okay?"

Keith's left leg was draped over Lance's shoulder. In the dim light of their new bedroom, they lied together tangled in crisp mountain breeze sheets. Lance peeled back the band of Keith's boxers and stared up at him, "Do you want me to stop?"

Keith's eyes teared up a little.

_Very soon, I will die. My body will be lowered into the ground as he watches helplessly from above. I'll leave behind a broken man that jumps in whole-heartedly and loves so deeply._

Keith shook his head and uncovered his mouth, "Please don't stop."

Lance gave him a nod slid his boxers off his legs.

_Anything could happen. Maybe he moves on and has kids. Maybe he'll die alone or throw himself off a bridge. But I can't do anything about it because I will be dead._

Keith threw his head back and cried out. Lance supported him with kisses across his collarbone and shoulder. Each thrust brought another firework of sparks and unexplored sensations. Keith never knew something so intimate could feel so liberating. That being so open with someone could be a major strength rather than a greatest weakness. He never knew that sex didn't take anything from him, it gave a bountiful harvest of gifts—a connection, a lifeline, a home.

Lance stopped and rushed to cup his cheeks, "Hey. Hey. What's wrong?"

Keith gasped for breath and gave him a confused look. "What?"

Lance scrunched his eyebrows and wiped Keith's cheek with his thumbs. "You're crying." Keith reached up to rub his eyes as Lance let out a nervous chuckle, "Am I that bad? Does it hurt?"

Keith stared at the tear on his finger for moment. His voice was quiet and shaky, "No, it's really good." His throat tightened again. "It's really good."

"Okay uh," he held back a laugh, "Then what's wrong?"

_I'm gonna die. Lance will live and move on with his life however he sees fit. At any time, I could drop dead right in front of him. I gave up. I gave up on trying. On fighting. I decided it was better to die than fight to stay alive. How pathetic._

Keith's eyes locked onto Lance's. "I don't wanna die."

Lance's jaw dropped, "What?"

Keith hesitantly shook his head, "I don't wanna die." He cupped Lance's cheeks and pulled their foreheads together. "I don't wanna die. Don't let me die."

"Keith," Lance stroked his cheeks, "What are you saying?"

Keith's chest bounced with a laugh, "I'll leave Hospice. I'll start chemo and do whatever the doctors say." He wrapped his arms around Lance's neck and gave him a quick kiss. "Start moving."

Lance's eyes shimmered. He nodded and picked up his thrusting again.

"Ah!" Keith dug his nails into Lance's shoulder. "I don't want to leave you."

Lance kissed his neck, leaving marks wherever he could. "I don't wanna leave you either."

Keith's hands desperately clung to Lance's body. This was it. Everything they lived through—cancer, car accidents, comas—they all led up to this moment.

_I'm not ready to give up. I don't want to die—I never did. All I wanted was someone to be there, to support me, to love me. It was always Lance. From the very beginning. He was always there._

Keith woke up slowly, eyes fighting against the sunlight. He stretched his lungs and arms with a big yawn. When he went to move his right hand, he stopped and smiled down at it. Lance lied behind him in deep sleep. His arm was draped over Keith's shoulders, intertwining their fingers and holding him close.

Keith turned his head back and kissed his nose. Lance left his lips parted when he slept. His eyelids were gently closed and his jaw was relaxed. His bedhead was Keith's favorite thing about it. Lance's macchiato hair had a mind of its own. It curled in various directions; some stuck to his head while others reached out to the world. Keith stifled his laugh and turned back around to cuddle back into his arms. "I love you, you dork."

_A little longer won't hurt._


	41. Treatment Options

A few days later, Keith talked to his parents about withdrawing from Hospice care. They were both extremely supportive and took care of the paperwork. After everything was being done, an appointment was made for them to discuss treatment options.

Keith officially greeted the doctor when they were led back to his office. "Nice to see you, Dr. Sallow."

The doctor was an old and greying man with crows feet and a shaky lip. "I should be telling you that! I was very pleased to see your name in my calendar." He held a hand out to Lance, "Now who might you be?"

Lance shook his hand and gave him a nod, "I'm Lance Kogane." He took a seat next to Keith. The room looked like any typical office you would see in any medical show. Files were crammed into bookshelves or stacked behind the desk on the counter; various pens fanned out in a black mesh cup; sticky notes dotted the desktop with notes scribbled in different inks.

Dr. Sallow sat down in his black leather office chair, "A cousin? Or brother?"

Keith's shoulders tensed up as he leaned forward and lifted a hand. "Um—no, we're not—"

Lance let out a nervous chuckle and shook his head, "I'm not his—uh.."

They both shared a playfully confused look. Keith took Lance's hand and placed it on his own armrest, lacing their fingers together. Lance jumped in, motioning to Keith with his free hand. "I'm actually his—uh—his husband."

Keith gave the doctor a wide smile and showed off his ring. "We're married."

Dr. Sallow leaned forward to admire Keith's ring, "Well would you look at that." He let out a hearty laugh, "Congratulations!"

"Thank you!" Keith tilted his head and widened his smile.

Dr. Sallow nodded and retrieved a file from his desk drawer. He set it on his desk, but left it closed. "Well, this meeting is to discuss treatment options for your leukemia." He laced his fingers together and leaned onto the desk, "I will not lie to you; this may be a very difficult talk." He made it look like he was talking only to Keith, but his eyes flickered over to Lance.

Keith gave him a snarky grin, "I'm expecting it." He squeezed Lance's hand as his smile dropped to unveil a serious aura.

"Then let's get started," Dr. Sallow nodded and leaned back in his chair. He flipped open the file and thumbed through the papers. "We've already had you on many different medications. Almost all of them have failed to treat the cancer."

Keith jumped in, "What about Tasigna?" His voice flattened, "It worked for a while."

Dr. Sallow used his hands to explain, "Well, it may not work in this phase. With your case, there's a higher chance of it not working at all."

Lance felt a little excluded from the discussion. He didn't know a lot of details about Keith's cancer, so he was relatively new to the process. Half of the words they said didn't even make any sense. Keith's entire demeanor changed in a split second. He was joyful and hyper up until a minute ago. His lips spoke as if it wasn't his body at all. Like he was debating politics with an old friend over a cup of tea. It was a strange thing for Lance to wrap his mind around.

Keith brought his hand up to his chin, "I see." His eyes lifted, "Bosulif?"

Dr. Sallow shrugged, "Possibly, but unlikely."

"So you're thinking Iclusig?"

"That's the plan." He flipped over a few papers. "But just like the other medications, there are risks involved."

Keith nodded, "Of course."

He read off every one in a mundane fashion. As if he was bored with it. "There is a chance of arterial occlusion—including fatal myocardial infarction, stroke, stenosis of large arterial vessels of the brain, severe peripheral vascular disease, and the need for revascularization procedures. There's also venous thromboembolism, heart failure, hepatotoxicity, liver failure, and death." He lifted his eyes to meet theirs, "Now the chances of these are slim and—"

"How slim?" Lance surprised both of them by finally speaking up.

Dr. Sallow gave him a small nod and looked back down at the file. "Arterial occlusion is about thirty-five percent, venous thromboembolism is six percent, and heart failure is nine percent."

"But Keith's case is special?" Lance's eyes switched from Keith and the doctor.

Dr. Sallow took a quick breath, "Yes, it is. In my professional opinion, the chances of any of these things happening is forty-eight percent."

Lance's chest jumped, "Forty-eight?"

Keith's voice drifted between serious and interested, "But that's just the meds."

"Correct."

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Keith's lips, "And you're thinking of doing something more."

Dr. Sallow smirked, "You know me too well." He returned to his flat tone, "A stem cell transplant is something you will have to consider. It will involve some radiation, too."

Keith's eyes fell back in thought. "Allogenic?"

"Yes." Dr. Sallow lowered his voice and spoke sternly, "I think it's your last chance at a cure."

Lance let out a frustrated sigh and turned to Keith, "Can you explain what's happening in words I'll understand?"

"Oh," Keith perked up in realization. He gave him a nervous chuckle, "Sorry." He twisted his body to face him, "So they want to put me on a chemotherapy drug called Iclusig. Then, I'll get a stem cell transplant—small radiation treatments come with that."

"Well, it's a transplant." Lance turned to the doctor, "What are the possible complications?"

Dr. Sallow gave him a half-hearted smile, "Possible complications include: bleeding and anemia; infections; interstitial pneumonia; liver damage and disease; or dry and damaged mouth, esophagus, lungs, and other organs." He fiddled with the stethoscope around his neck, "There's also a chance that Keith's body will reject the transplant or the cancer will relapse."

Lance sat back in his chair to process all the information being thrown at him. It was a lot to wrap his mind around.

Keith's face filled with pity. He stroked Lance's arm and forced a smile, "It's a Hail Mary."

Lance sat in silence for a few more moments, then sighed and rubbed his face. "In your opinion, what are the chances of a life-threatening situation happening?"

Dr. Sallow thought for a moment, "About eighty percent."

Lance let out a frustrated breath, "So what are the chances the stem cell transplant won't work?"

"I would say it's fifty-fifty."

Lance bobbed his head to emphasize his sharp words, "And what are the chances of everything going according to plan?"

"If everything went according to plan? Thirty percent."

Lance swallowed his nerves and held Keith's hand tighter, "And what are the chances that Keith actually lives through all of this?"

Dr. Sallow leaned onto his desk and held his hands up in defense, "Mr. Kogane, I'm afraid this is the only option left."

Lance hardened his stare, "What are the chances he lives?"

Dr. Sallow let out a long sigh and leaned back in his chair. His lips hesitated as he thought it over. After a moment, he met Lance's eyes. "Twelve percent."


	42. Twelve Percent

"A twelve percent chance?!" Lance paced around their small living room. His head was filled with scenes of Keith dying. No matter what he did, he couldn't stop imagining everything that could go wrong. He didn't know that much about doctors and medicine, but anybody could tell that twelve percent was very low.

Keith sat on the red couch hugging a decorative pillow, "It's risky, I know."

"Keith," Lance let out a chuckle of disbelief and shook his head. "This is so insane." He scratched his hair in frustration, "You knew, didn't you?"

Keith cowered his head, "Yeah." He raised his eyes, "I did."

Lance threw his arms up, "Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged his shoulders and pouted, "I wanted you to hear about everything before you heard the chances."

"Keith." Lance stopped pacing and stared down at him. Keith's fingers tugged his sleeves down over his hands. His lips were parted and his crystal eyes were lowered along with his head. Lance took a long breath to calm himself down. Keith knew exactly how to bring him to his knees. Slowly, he knelt down in front of him and took his hand.

Keith lifted his head and batted his eyes, "It's the only way."

Lance's chest was shot with every word he said. The last thing he wanted to lose was Keith's beautiful voice. "Keith, our relationship was built on risk." He laced their fingers, "I never minded how dangerous we were. But I need to know, from  _you_ , if this is what we want." He emphasized his words, "If it is, then I'll support you no matter what."

"No matter what?"

Lance shook his head, "No matter what."

Keith moved up and wrapped his arms around his neck, bringing him into a hug. He kissed Lance's hair, "Yes. This is what we want." He pulled away and cupped his cheeks with a smirk, "Now how about we start taking our clothes off and you can fuck me right here?"

Lance let out an excited laugh, "I love you so much."

Keith tossed the box of glitter pens into the cart, leaving his hands up for an extra moment as if he had thrown a basketball. When the pens clinked as they touched the bottom, Keith pumped his fist and whispered a successful  _yes_.

Lance had his arms crossed and propped onto the cart handle. He laughed at the cute dances Keith did as he shopped. "You look like you're having fun."

Keith turned around to look through the array of notebooks. "Yes, I am." He picked up one with a grey kitten face and one with a beagle puppy.

"Do you always have such girly school supplies?" Lance eyed the notebook choices in his hands.

Keith turned to look at him and smiled under his mask, "Yes." He set both notebooks in the cart, "Bright colors and cute animals keep me sane when I'm in Biology."

Lance took a few steps forward, pushing the cart to follow Keith. "You don't like science?"

"I hate science," Keith groaned. "The only one I actually like is astrology."

"I hate math."

"You hate school in general." Keith picked out an elaborate mechanical pencil.

Lance nodded in defeat, "That's true."

Keith trotted over to him and pulled his mask down to kiss Lance's cheek. Lance grabbed his cheek to kiss his lips. They pulled back and rested their foreheads together. Lance breathed out a happy sigh, "But  _cats?_ Really?"

Keith pulled back and slapped his arm, "Stop making fun of my notebooks."

Lance wrapped his arms around Keith's waist and picked him up to spin him around. He held him up when he stopped, "We're gonna be in school together."

Keith laughed and cupped his cheeks, "The sweethearts of Branch P. High School."

Lance slowly lowered him back down, "People are gonna think we're the  _brothers_ of Branch P. High School."

"Or cousins," Keith added.

Lance took a deep breath and let out a long sigh, "That'll get annoying."

Keith nodded, clicking his teeth. "Major."


	43. The Ship Has Sailed

Lance tossed their backpacks into Keith's black Mercedes and jogged back to the house. He hung on the door frame and knocked on the wall. "Keith! We gotta go or we'll be late!"

"I know!" His voice jumped out of their room. "I'm just finishing my makeup!"

"You look fine!"

"Fine?!"

Lance face-palmed with a defeated sigh, "You're beautiful! Let's go!"

There was a moment of shuffling and clinking bottles. "Okay!" He slipped out of the room and ran to the door, giving Lance a little kiss on his cheek. He had picked out black converses, ripped white jeans, and an oversize mint green hoodie. He slipped his flowery blue mask over his face and jumped out the door. "Let's go!"

Lance enjoyed driving Keith's car; it made him feel rich. He parked in the senior lot and turned to Keith. He patted his thigh, "You sure you feel alright?"

Keith retrieved his Fjallraven from the back seat and gave him a confused look. "Yeah, of course I do."

Lance lowered his eyes and sighed, "I'm just saying, you've just started the new meds. I just want to make sure you're okay."

Keith slipped one of the mask loops off of his ear and leaned over to bring him into a kiss. They both leaned into it and let it linger on their lips. Keith pulled back a few inches, keeping their faces close. "I'm just fine."

Lance stroked his cheek with a gentle hand, "Call me if anything happens."

"I will." He returned to his side of the car and put his mask back on. He popped his door open and shot Lance a mischievous look, "Let's go."

Lance walked into the school with his arm over Keith's shoulder. He let his fingers spin the ring on his finger, working his way through the crowd of people. After getting through the entrance, Keith perked up and drug Lance down the hall. Keith jumped up and waved, "Shiro! Allura!"

Shiro was dressed in light blue distressed jeans with a beige sweater over a white button-down. Allura stood next to him in jean shorts, a powder pink shirt and a black and white sweater cardigan. She held a 'venti' Starbucks drink in her hand; pinky out. They turned around with curious stars in their eyes. Shiro gave him a smile as Allura threw her arms out to offer a hug. "Keith!"

Keith took up her offer of a hug with a giggle. "I missed you guys!"

"Missed us?" Shiro chuckled. "You just got married. You should be too busy to even think about us."

Keith sneered at him under the mask and returned under Lance's arm, pulling it down on his shoulder. "No need to worry about me!" He glanced up at Lance to share a look, "We've been plenty busy."

"Oh my god," Shiro turned his head away in embarrassment, "Where the hell did my best friend go?"

"Oh shut up!" Keith slapped his arm and led the group down the hall. He slipped his hand into Lance's and looked to the group. "What's your guys' classes look like?"

"Okay!" Allura raised her hands excitedly. "I looked over the schedules in our group chat, and it looks like we all have Creative Writing together!" She pointed to Keith and Lance, "You two both have Trig second block. Keith and I have Astrology first block." She looked at Shiro, "And I'm stuck with this lovebird for Honors Biology second block."

"Hey!" Shiro threw a hand up in protest.

"Oh yeah!" Keith leaned forward to shoot him a teasing look. "How did you handle being out of school?"

Allura batted her eyes, "Did you get to see his house? Does he live in a mansion like in your fantasies?"

"I'm not sleeping with my teacher!"

"Oh come on!" Allura tugged on his sleeve. "You don't have to lie anymore! You're a legal adult now!"

Shiro let out a frustrated grunt, "Yeah, but he's still my teacher." As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he had fucked up.

Keith pumped his fist and did a mini happy-dance. "I fucking knew it!" Various people started to look over at the group.

Lance laughed at Keith's terrible attempt at dancing and shook his head. "I'm new to this drama."

Allura pat his shoulder and directed his gaze over to a man standing out in the hallway greeting students. He was in a checkered shirt and red tie. Bright orange hair slicked back over his head and powdered his upper lip. "That is Mr. Coran Navy. Shiro and him are totally fucking."

"Keep your fucking voice down!" Shiro jumped forward to cover her mouth.

"Yes!" Keith jumped up and shouted down the hall, "The ship has sailed!"


	44. Chemo

When Lance was slowly pulled out of sleep, he came to notice the sun had not peeked over the horizon yet. He pushed himself up and searched for what had woken him. As he turned his head, the sound of gagging snapped his attention toward the bathroom. The door was cracked with a faint yellowish light pooling out. Lance quickly threw the blankets off and jumped out of bed. He crept toward the sound. With gentle pressure, he pushed the door open using his fingertips.

Keith sat on his knees leaning over the toilet bowl. His chest pulsed with heaving breaths and gags underneath Lance's grey sweater. He wiped his mouth with his wrist and lifted his head to look up at Lance. A cough escaped his throat before he could find his voice. "Uh," he forced a playful smile. His skin was pale and sagging off his cheeks. Surrounding his pitifully broken body were mini tufts of black hair lying on the white marble tile. Even with his pathetic frame, his eyes still held their sparkle. Two violet nebulae staring up at him within a vortex of hope. "Good morning."

"Oh Keith," Lance's chest ached at the sight. He lowered down to his knees and placed an arm around Keith's back.

Keith sniffled and quickly brought a hand up to cover his mouth. After a few seconds of uncomfortable rocking, he heaved and pulled it away to vomit into the toilet. "Ugh," he laced his fingers into his hair and spit to clear his mouth. "Sorry I woke you up."

"Don't ever feel like you can't wake me up." Lance leaned over and kissed the top of his head. "This isn't your fault."

Keith groaned and sat back on his knees and ran his wrist over his lips. "Still sucks, though."

"Here," Lance reached up to the towel ring and yanked it down to wipe the vomit off his mouth and arms.

Keith let him clean off his skin as he chuckled. His eyes scanned the floor around him, "My hair's falling out again."

Lance placed the towel next to him and looked around at the speckles of black. "Yeah, it is."

Keith's mouth curved into a smile as his throat formed a giggle. He dropped his hands to the floor and lifted his eyes to the ceiling. "I'm gonna be bald."

Lance scrunched his eyebrows together as he stared in confusion. He had never seen Keith this sick. The chemo drugs he was on now were harder on his body than the ones he had taken before. Lance knew he was in pain. He had to be in  _so much pain._ Yet, Keith reacted as if it was any normal day. Maybe he was too sick to react the way he should've. As supportive and loving Lance wanted to be, Keith was scary. He was ashamed that he felt disturbed by his behavior, but it happened. The feeling was there.

Lance quickly shook away the anxiety that boiled in his chest. This was his husband. The love of his life. Nothing like this was too much for him. It  _couldn't_ be. This was just an introduction to the horrors they had yet to go through. Keith was going to get a lot sicker and look a lot worse than he did then. They made a vow to be there for each other for better or for worse.

This was not the worst.

Lance gently wrapped his arms around Keith's shoulders, being careful to allow him room to retreat if he needed to throw up. He kissed his hair, "I don't care if you're bald." He took in a breath of Keith's strawberry-scented skin. "I care if you're alive."

Keith shook his head and lifted a hand. He ran his fingers through his dulled hair, closing his eyes against the pressure. When it exited his head, a clump of black was threaded in the creases of his hand. With a dropped smile and droopy eyes, he held it up for Lance to see. Keith articulated every syllable he spoke, "I'm gonna be bald."

Lance stared in amazement for a moment before his eyes relaxed. He sighed and pushed himself off the floor. Taking one last look back at Keith, he stepped out of the bathroom. "I'll go get the broom."


	45. Shiro and Keith

Lance opened the door to Shiro handing him a folder of schoolwork. He flashed a smile, "How's Keith?"

"Thanks," Lance took the folder and motioned for him to come inside. He closed the door and tossed the homework onto the coffee table. "Keith feels like shit." Lance rubbed his eyes and yawned, "He's been throwing up all night."

Shiro sighed and stuck his hands in his brown leather jacket pockets. "What's the—"

"Shiro!" Keith sprinted out of the bedroom and jumped onto him in a hug. "You're here!"

Shiro grunted at the hit and laughed, "Well hello there." He leaned back to see Keith's face, "What are you doing out of bed?"

Keith scoffed and let go of his waist to cross his arms. He stuck his nose up, "I don't need to be in bed. I'm just fine. See?" He outstretched his arms and spun around. "I'm good."

When Keith brought his hand up to cover his mouth, Lance stepped forward. "Keith, it's fine."

Keith shook his head, keeping his hand up. "Mm-mm"

Lance glanced at Shiro as he walked forward, "Give me a second." He knelt down to pick Keith up and brought him back to their bathroom. He immediately vomited when Lance set him down.

Keith held his forehead, "Sorry."

Lance patted his shoulder, "Don't push yourself." He walked back to the living room to greet Shiro, "Sorry about that." He put his hands on his hips and let out a slight chuckle, "He never respects his limits."

Shiro smiled, "It wouldn't be Keith if he did."

"That's true," Lance laughed with him.

Shiro's eyes dropped to the floor as he crossed his arms. "Has he been like this the whole week?"

Lance shrugged, "More or less." He scratched his hair in exhaustion. "I've called his doctor and he's helped, but Keith's still been sick." Lance locked eyes with him, "Did you know Keith when he was young?"

Shiro shook his head, "I met Keith on my first day of seventh grade. I had transferred to America and didn't know much English."

"Really?" Lance tilted his head in question. "Where'd you come from?"

"Japan." Shiro looked down to smile. "When Keith was in school, he always tried to make friends. Since he didn't have any hair at the time, kids were mean. They'd take his hat and throw it on the ground or cut his wigs with their scissors. Most of the time, he would sit alone.

"When I transferred in, kids would stare at me like I was a magical unicorn. I hated the way they acted around me—especially since I didn't understand them." Shiro scanned the house with a slight smile, "I sat next to Keith one day at lunch. He had always sat on this one windowsill and stared outside. When I sat down, he gave me the strangest look. It was like he was surprised and disgusted at the same time."

Lance laughed and shook his head, "That sounds familiar."

Shiro nodded, "After staring at each other for a solid minute, Keith said something I didn't understand. That's when he groaned, raised his hand, and said  _Kore wa 'apple' desu._ "

Lance chuckled in disbelief, "Keith can speak Japanese?"

"No," Shiro laughed, "No, he cannot."

"Then how...?"

Shiro shrugged and raised an eyebrow at him. "Take a wild guess."

Lance took a deep breath, "That caring little shit." His smile slowly dropped as he lowered his eyes, "Shiro, can I ask you something?"

He gave him a concerned look, "Yeah, okay."

Lance's lips shook in hesitation. He questioned whether or not he should ask. Did he even want to know the answer? "Did you guys..." Lance locked eyes with him, "Did you guys like each other?"

He expected Shiro to laugh and shake it off with a joke, but he didn't. Instead, Shiro's eyes widened a little. He looked to the side and hung his head. "Do you really want to know?"

Lance's jaw tightened, "Tell me."

Shiro swallowed hard and nodded, "Yeah, we did. Although, it didn't go well." His eyes seemed to sink back in sorrowful thought. "Keith and I were together for two months in our sophomore year." He shook his head, "But we were the worst couple. All we did was fight." Shiro locked eyes with Lance and spoke slowly, "The only reason we were together was because Keith wanted to experience a relationship before he died. There's nothing you have to worry about."

Lance kept a straight face and nodded, "I know. Thank you for telling me."

"Lance! Shiro!" Keith's voice was muffled by the walls.

Lance turned back to face the bedroom door, "Yeah?!"

Keith emerged from the room with a cheeky smile. His eyes switched between them, "You guys wanna shave my head?"

Lance crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.  _Why am I even surprised?_ He huffed and looked at Shiro, who shrugged. Lance threw his arms up in defeat, "Why not?"


	46. The Phone Call

Pidge and Hunk visited Keith and Lance for a weekend. They all decided on a gaming marathon, so Pidge brought all her games and consoles. Hunk provided a wide variety of foods such as: pizza, chips, soda, and some healthier options for Keith.

"Pidge! It's right there!" Lance screamed and held onto Keith's arm.

"I'm kinda fucking busy at the moment!" She stood from the couch and pounded on the buttons of her controller.

"Pidge!" Hunk shouted her name with his mouth stuffed.

Lance flinched at the jump-scare onscreen and latched onto Keith's shirt.

Keith shook his head, "You guys are babies!" He held a hand out, "Gimme that."

Pidge shrugged and handed him the controller, "Knock yourself out."

Lance stared up at Keith as he played. His hair was now replaced by his cute red lion hat. It was one Krolia made him the first time he shaved his head. Keith's attitude had improved now that his hair was gone. His happiness was genuine now. Lance could never understand what he was feeling, but that wasn't his job. His job was to be there no matter how Keith felt. He smiled and frantically pointed the screen, "Keith! It's right there! Go left!"

"Right or left?!" Keith started tensing up as the adrenaline kicked in.

The group shouted in unison as they all cringed. "Left! Go left!"

Lance felt Keith's pocket vibrate. He reached in and slipped his phone out. When he saw the caller ID, his jaw dropped along with his heart.

Keith glanced at him, "Who is it?"

Lance locked eyes with him, clutching the phone. "It's Dr. Sallow."

"Oh fuck this," Keith tossed the controller back to Pidge and yanked the phone from Lance's hand. He picked up the TV remote and muted it as he answered, "Hello?"

All of them craned their necks to watch his expressions. Lance stood to walk over to him.

Keith held a finger up to him as his voice stayed calm and collected. "Yes, I remember."

Lance stared at him in confusion and motioned to the phone.

Keith shook his head and shoved his arm away. His mouth was plastered in a permanent neutral position. "Of course, I understand."

Lance couldn't take the pain of not knowing what was being said. His hands shook as he searched for any sign of good or bad news.

"Monday?" Keith groaned in thought. "Is that enough time?"

Lance tensed his hands up in frustration as he followed him around the room.

"Yes, of course." Keith's eyes drifted in thought. "No, that would be bad." His fingers tapped the wall as he leaned against it. His voice stayed neutral, "Yeah, I understand." He looked over at Lance as he continued his conversation on the phone. "He agrees with me."

Lance threw his hands up in frustration and whispered, "What?!"

Keith gave a nod to the phone, "I understand." He tapped his thumb on the screen the end the call. Lifting his head and staring at the wall with squished eyebrows.

Lance ran up to him and shook his shoulders, "What did he say?!"

Keith's eyes stayed vacant as his breathing increased. He teared up a little and scrunched up his nose.

Lance held his cheeks and wiped his tears with his eyes. He took a quick look over at the worried Pidge and Hunk approaching them. Returning to Keith, he kissed his forehead. "Baby, what happened? What did he say?" He kissed his cheek, "What's wrong?"

Keith bent over slightly and let out a sob. "Lance it's happening."

Lance's eyes widened. He panicked, "What's happening?"

Keith sniffled and took in a big breath. He lifted his chest and placed his hands on Lance's cheeks. A smile painted his lips, "I'm getting my bone marrow transplant."

It took a few moments for the words to register in his mind. He stared into Keith's eyes, switching from one to the other. "What?"

Keith let out a happy sob and yanked his shoulders to him, bringing him into a tight hug. "I'm getting my transplant!"

Pidge and Hunk gasped and shared surprised looks. Lance held Keith's waist as his mind was still processing, "You're getting the transplant?"

"Yeah!" Keith buried his face into the crook of his neck. He repeated it as he processed the words himself, "I'm getting my transplant! Like soon!"

"Oh my god," Lance teared up and hugged him tighter. This was it. Keith could be cured. He could live for years instead of days. It was finally happening—the most exciting and frightening thing yet. "When?!"

Keith balled up Lance's shirt in his fists and laughed. "I go into conditioning on Monday."

Lance pulled back to bring Keith into a deep kiss and pick him up. He spun him around a couple times, then slowly lowered him down. They kept their foreheads connected as they cried and laughed. Pidge and Hunk wrapped their arms around them in a group hug.

Pidge sniffled, "We'll get to have you longer now."

Keith laughed and hugged her head, "You won't get rid of me that easy!"

Pidge giggled and hugged him back, "You go kick that cancer's ass."


	47. Some Nights

With every step Lance took, his heart beat his ribs harder. Hospitals were a developing symbol of irony for him. They gave him Keith. But one day, very soon, they could take him away.

Keith held his hand tighter and flashed a smile under his mask. Lance almost couldn't take how much his eyes twinkled. They housed so much hope and excitement. Why did he believe in miracles and happy endings? Whenever Lance got his hopes up, things would always go horribly wrong. If this was the one thing that could cure Keith, then why was it the thing that could kill him?

Lance and Keith were brought back to a hospital room. It had a special air filter to keep germs away from him. Lance was even required to wear a mask after Keith received the immunosuppressants. This would be the place Keith would stay for the duration of his transplant process. Before the transplant, Keith had to receive high doses of chemo and radiation over the course of a week. This was to make room for the transplant, suppress his immune system, and destroy any remaining cancer left in his body. The first thing the doctors had to do was give him a port in his chest. It was so they had an easier way to give meds and draw blood. Keith was admitted instead of being treated as an outpatient. This was because he had such low chances of survival. If  _anything_ went wrong, it would kill him almost instantly.

"Now once we start this process," Dr. Sallow stood next to Keith's bed as the nurse paused to let him speak. He talked in an indifferent voice, but it was obvious that he was holding back excitement. "Once we start, we can't stop. The process  _must_ be completed." He locked eyes with both of them, "This is your last chance to back out. After the first treatment is given, there's no going back. Are you both still sure you want to go through with it?"

Lance almost said  _no._ He wanted to yank Keith out of that bed and carry him home. He wanted to sleep together one more time; cuddle and watch movies again; and most of all, he wanted wake up next to him one last time. It was in that moment that the reality of it all hit him.  _Is this really alright?_

But once Keith looked back to smile down at him, his heart melted. This was the one thing Keith wanted. After the first treatment there was no going back? Bullshit. The second Keith heard about the transplant was the moment they couldn't turn back. There was no stopping now.

Lance forced a smile back and nodded. Keith let out an excited giggle and turned back to the doctor. "Let's do this!"

"Okay," the nurse gave a bright smile and handed him a little cup of pills.

Keith dropped all of them in his mouth at once, which was surprising to Lance. He thought that it would cause him to choke, but he swallowed them just fine. After that, Dr. Sallow left to let the nurse take over. Her name was Mary.

Nurse Mary set up the IVs and prepared Keith for the infusion. Everything was hooked up to Keith's port—which was put in the day prior. Once it was all set up, she let them be and returned to her other tasks. The treatment would take an hour to complete, then they would flush it all with saline. The whole process would take around five hours every day over the whole week.

Keith insisted Lance should go home and sleep many times. He complied after the first treatment was done, but couldn't fall asleep after his shower. In the end, he packed a bag and returned to the hospital to spend the night with Keith.

The chemotherapy and radiation made Keith very sick. He was always tired or nauseous and complaining of a terrible headache. It was worse than he was at home. Much worse. Lance was completely ruined by the whole process. No matter what he did, he couldn't alleviate any of the pain Keith was in. They couldn't even stop the process, so it was something they had to fight through.

Most nights Lance would stay awake and watch Keith's chest rise and fall with his gentle breaths. He would kiss the back of his hand and stroke his cheek in an attempt to calm him. Once the sun rose and Keith's eyes fluttered open, Lance would pass out leaning on the bed. As exhausted and stressed out as he was, Lance didn't mind. It was the only thing he could do. He wanted to watch Keith as much as he could in case he never returned home. Sleep wasn't important anymore. Nothing was. Just Keith.

Keith sat cross-legged on the bed with a pillow in his lap and Lance's supportive hand on his thigh. Nurse Mary entered the room and flashed them a wide grin. "Are you ready?"

Keith couldn't contain his excitement. He nodded and squealed, "Of course I am!"

She nodded and snickered at his behavior, "Alright. Let's get you set up for the transplant." Another nurse came in with a cooler-like box with a lot of stickers and writing on it. They took a lot of notes and read off a lot of numbers.

Keith turned to look at Lance as the two nurses continued their work. "Hey Lance?"

Lance gave him a hum of question, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows.

A smile tugged the corners of Keith's mouth, "I wanna do something once we get out of here."

"Like what?"

"Like," he trailed off and looked up at the ceiling. "I wanna learn to dance with you."

Lance's chest warmed up. His eyes softened as he brought his lips to the back of Keith's hand. He nuzzled his cheek into the knuckles of his fingers. "I would love to dance with you."


	48. Going Home

Keith slept a lot after the transplant. Lance was told it was completely normal and he shouldn't worry. He caught up on his own sleep during that time as well. Sometimes Keith would get nauseous, but it was never bad. He ate a lot better, felt great, and had such high spirits. After a week passed, it was decided that he would stay in the hospital for two more weeks, then he could go home.

Lance slowly developed a new sense of hope as the days passed. He felt silly for thinking that Keith was going to die. In all actuality, Keith never looked better. When he wasn't sleeping he was talking to Lance for hours while they played cards.

Finally, Keith was discharged from the hospital. They were given a lot of instructions to follow along with many medications to take. The first thing Keith did when he got home was take a shower and immediately fall asleep in their bed, claiming "it's what heaven feels like."

"Keith?" Lance called his name through the house from the kitchen. "Keith, dinner's done." He waited for a few moments before scoffing and walking to their bedroom.

"Keith, it's time to—" Lance stopped when he reached the door frame. Keith wasn't there. He turned around and started toward the other end of their house. "Keith this isn't funny anymore."

Lance was completely bewildered and very concerned.  _Where is that little shit?_  He stood in their living room and pondered about where he should look next. As he turned to check the room again, his eyes caught sight of red out the front window. He stopped to look at what he saw.

Keith was standing outside in black sweatpants and a matching short-sleeved shirt. His red hat was tugged off his head and balled up in his fist. He was staring at the pink and red sunset in the sky with bright and sparkling eyes.

"Shit!" Lance dashed out the front door and picked him up. He quickly yanked him back inside and shut the door. He gasped for breaths as he tried to calm his pounding heart. "Keith, what the fuck are you doing?!"

Keith stared at him with shimmering eyes. Their shine had turned sour. He cowered his head, averting his gaze. "I just wanted to feel the sun."

"You can't do that!" Lance let out an angry breath and mashed his palm into his forehead. "You know you can't be in the sunlight."

"I'm fine!" Keith raised his hands to show off his body. "I'm just fine. Look at me! I'm not dead!"

"But you could be if you don't listen to what the doctors say!" Lance used his hands to emphasize his frustrated words. "There are rules!"

Keith crossed his arms and pouted. "You're bossy."

"And you're dumb!"

Keith's face immediately dropped. His lips shook as he tried to respond, but couldn't find the words.

"Shit. Keith that's not what I meant." Lance knew he fucked up. "I just meant that you were being too careless."

"No, I get it." Keith's jaw tightened. He gave a hesitant nod and took a couple steps back. "I'm just stupid, it's fine."

"Keith that's not—"

Keith whipped around and continued to their room, slamming the door and locking it behind him.

Lance walked over and stood with his hands against the door, "Keith please open the door. I didn't mean it."

"Go away!" Keith's voice was muffled by the barrier, but he could tell he was hurt.

Lance leaned his forehead against the wood. "Baby please open the door. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Keith was silent for a few moments. After what felt like forever, he responded in a low and bitter tone. "Sleep on the couch."

Lance's heart broke. He pleaded and begged for Keith to come out, but he never received an answer. All he could do was sit down and lean against the door. He continued to cry and apologize for hours.

Keith opened his eyes when he finally calmed down enough to stop crying. He looked over at the clock to see it was nearly three a.m. He sighed and pushed himself up, rubbing his sore eyes with his fists. The pitiful voice at the door had stopped some time earlier, but he couldn't remember when. The moonlight spilled into the room from the window on Lance's side. Keith stared down at the empty spot for a minute. It was strange not having anyone there. He couldn't remember the last time he slept alone. Even in the hospital Lance was always there to hold his hand.

Keith's eyes spilled over again, but his face held back the pain. He swallowed his pride and stood up with the blanket around his shoulders. The cold floor chilled his bare feet as he walked over to the door, pulling the covers off the bed. He stopped to stare at the door handle and listen for any more apologies. Nothing.

Keith's eyes stung and his cheeks collected waterfalls. He quietly unlocked the door and opened it just enough to peek out. At first, he didn't see Lance anywhere. But when he opened the door all the way, he stared down at the floor and shook his head. He crossed his arms, wrapping the blanket tighter around him.  _How pathetic._

Lance had fallen asleep lying on the floor outside the bedroom door. He must have been there until he passed out. Keith didn't want to admit it, but he felt guilty. It was his own fault that Lance got mad, and he acted irrationally.

Keith softened his face and dropped down next to him. He tugged the blanket off his shoulders and covered them up with it. As to not wake him, Keith quietly lied down and nuzzled into his chest. He could feel Lance's breath and hear his heartbeat. They brought a smile to his face and stopped his tears. Finally feeling safe and warm, he took a deep breath and let himself drift off to sleep on the hardwood floor.


	49. Struggles of Isolation

Lance let Keith sleep in as he went through his morning routine. It had been about three months since they'd returned home, and he had been really tired. Lance figured it was more because of the isolation than the actual transplant. They had been fighting more and more over things that didn't really matter at all. One day they stopped to realize that they were bickering about a mere plate.

Shiro and Allura visited often. They had to wear masks and gloves, but they never minded. Over time Keith wanted to hang out with them alone, so Lance would leave when they came over. He didn't mind it at first, but then it started making him feel really isolated. He knew that Keith had his own life, but Lance had left his family and friends back in Tennessee. Keith was all he had.

That's when he started going to bars. He couldn't drink, but it was fun to go and watch sports while enjoying the foods he couldn't eat at home. There was one day that a girl with an overwhelming amount of mascara and a mini skirt came up to him. She rested her arms on the bar to show off her boobs as she flirted with him. There was a split second where Lance almost gave in. He wanted to let go and have fun for once. But then he came to his senses and left immediately. He went home and wrapped Keith up in his arms. The only person he wanted was him.

Lance was frustrated. Physically, mentally, emotionally, and sexually. They hadn't slept together since before the transplant. Keith was always tired or emotional. If he didn't feel well, then they were fighting. Sex just wasn't a priority anymore.

Lance poured himself a cup of coffee and looked out the window as he sipped on it. It was a beautiful day. The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and it wasn't too cold. He thought about taking Keith to the park. They almost never went out because of the risk of infection or the fact that Keith had to wear so many things to cover his skin. Maybe they could finally get their lives back to normal soon. It would take a year for Keith's immune system to develop, but that didn't mean he had to be a hermit.

Lance set the mug down on the counter and stretched his arms up as he returned to the room. He went to shake Keith's shoulder to wake him, but pulled his hand back when he coughed. Lance craned his neck to find Keith's face buried in the fluffy blankets. "Keith? You awake?"

Keith coughed again, which turned into a wheeze. "Yeah."

Lance gently pulled the blanket down to uncover him. "Keith are you feeling alright? You don't sou—oh my god!"

Keith's skin had darkened and developed patches of red, which he could tell had been scratched raw. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed them with the back of his thumbs. "Turn off the light. It hurts." His throat tightened again and he struggled to breathe.

"Keith!" Lance grabbed his wrist to look at the rashes. He tugged on his arm to try and get him to open his eyes. "How long have you been like this?!"

Keith winced and kept his eyes shut, "The rashes? Those have been there for a while."

Lance could feel anger boil in his chest, "What about your eyes? Are you—" he stopped to squint at the streaks on his cheeks, "Are you crying?"

"No," Keith pulled his arm out of Lance's grasp and coughed. "They're just really watery. And they burn."

"Are you serious right now?!" Lance threw the blanket back and laced his arms under Keith's body. "Get up. Right now. We're going to the hospital."

Keith was lifted off the bed and carried out of the room. He breathed heavily, "Why? I'm fine. I don't need to go back there."

"Are you out of your goddamn mind?!" Lance snatched his keys off the counter and stuffed his feet into his tennis shoes. He placed Keith in the passenger side of the car, "Put your seatbelt on. I'll be right back."

Keith opened his eyes just a little as he squinted against the light, "But I don't wanna—"

Lance shut the car door and ran back inside to grab a blanket, Keith's shoes, and his wallet. He returned to the car and fought with Keith to put his seatbelt on and cover himself with the blanket. He started down the road quickly, but carefully. His fist slammed down on the steering wheel, "Why the fuck didn't you tell me about this?!"

"I didn't think it was anything serious!" Keith rubbed his eyes and coughed. "Don't yell at me!"

"Dammit Keith." Lance shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "Just sit tight. We'll be there soon."


	50. What Happened

Keith was immediately admitted when they arrived. When Dr. Sallow came in and saw his condition, his face dropped a little. He told them that they had to run a lot of tests to confirm what was happening, but from what Lance could see, he already knew what was going on. And it wasn't good. Many nurses and doctors came in to draw blood and examine his eyes and skin rashes. Lance held his hand the whole time and prayed that he would be okay.

Once they were left alone, Keith spoke to him. His eyes hurt too much for him to open them, so he couldn't look at him. "I'm sorry."

Lance kissed his hand, "It's okay. I forgive you." He choked down all his fear and anxiety, "I'm sorry about everything. I've been such an asshole to you."

Keith let out a cough and brought his hand up to stroke Lance's cheek. "It's okay. I forgive you. You were only trying to protect me."

"Yeah," a tear escaped his eye, "I just didn't—I wanted to just—" he cut himself off.

Keith's hands shook along with his voice, "Lance?"

"Yeah?"

He sniffled and bit his lip. He spoke in a hushed whisper, "I'm really scared."

Lance nodded and squeezed his eyes shut, "Yeah. Me too." He stood from his chair and kissed Keith's forehead, "But we're together, so everything will be just fine."

Keith took a few wheezing breaths, "Do you really believe that?"

After hours of waiting, Dr. Sallow returned and shut the door behind him. Lance squeezed Keith's hand tighter and watched as the doctor walked over to stand at the foot of the bed. He kept his mouth pressed in a thin line and his hands on a clipboard. "I've received all the results of the tests and I wanted to go over them with you."

Keith's breath hitched. He could only open his eyes to a small slit. "Just tell me what's going on."

Dr. Sallow opened his mouth to respond, but shut it and nodded. He switched his eyes from Keith to Lance, "I'm afraid there's been a complication with your transplant."

Lance audibly sighed as his face contorted into a sorrowful realization. He kissed Keith's hand and held on tighter.

"Remember when we went over the possible things that could happen?" Dr Sallow continued his speech. "This is one of them. I'm afraid it's a very common complication of bone marrow transplants."

"What is it?" Lance's jaw tightened and he swallowed his shaky voice.

"It's called graft-versus-host disease, or  _GvHD."_ Dr Sallow lifted his clipboard to look at it, but set it down on the counter behind him. "GvHD is a condition in which the donated cells start attacking the recipient's cells. A small amount of GvHD is alright, but a lot can be very serious."

"So," Keith scrunched his eyebrows together, "Mine isn't normal?"

He shook his head, "I'm afraid not. It's actually  _very_ serious for you." Dr. Sallow sighed and leaned his hands on the handles of the bed. "There's two types of GvHD: acute and chronic. Keith, you have chronic GvHD. All that means is that it happened more than three months after the transplant. It also means that the cells are attacking organ systems."

"Which organs?" Keith cut him off in a panic.

"It's attacking your eyes, lungs, skin, and GI tract." Dr. Sallow's eyes slowly fell. "That's a lot more than we originally predicted."

"So what does that mean?" Lance pushed for any answer that could help. "What can you do?"

"I'm afraid all we can do now is try to treat it, but the outlook doesn't look good."

Lance slammed his hand down on the end table, "But what does that mean?!"

Dr. Sallow jumped at the sudden noise, but calmed down. "Keith, I'm afraid that I don't think you will recover. I'm very sorry. We will try all we can, but you must understand that."

Lance's heart stopped. Everything was alright a few days ago, so why is it all fucked up now? "Are you saying that Keith is dying?"

Dr. Sallow nodded, "I'm very sorry, Mr. Kogane. We will do all we can." He slowly exited the room and shut the door.

They were silent for a while. Keith brought a hand up to cover his mouth. "Can you call my mom?"

Lance nodded, "Yeah, I will." He pulled his phone out and searched through his contacts.

"Hey Lance?" Keith's soft voice sounded once more.

"Yes?" A tear fell down Lance's cheek and clung to his jaw. He was still processing the words the doctor had said.

Keith turned onto his side and pulled Lance's hand up to hug it. "I'm so sorry I'm dying."

A waterfall of tears streaked Lance's cheeks. His throat let out a sob and forced a smile. He leaned forward to kiss his forehead, "It's not your fault."


	51. The Things We Do For Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will feature illegal drugs.

Krolia burst through the door with a mask on. Her eyes spilled over and she quickly went to Keith's side. "My poor baby."

"Momma!" Keith clung to her shirt and cried into her shoulder. He sobbed and shook his head, "I can't see you."

"It's okay, sweetie." She sat down on the edge of the bed and brought him to her chest. She shushed him and rubbed his back. "I'm right here."

Eric tapped Lance's shoulder, "How are you doin' son?"

Lance sniffled and shook his head, "I'm so sorry." His eyes stung with tears as they stared up at Eric in sorrow. "I'm so sorry."

Eric's pulled him into a hug and patted his back. His voice was tight and flat, "It's alright, Lance. This isn't your fault."

"Dad?!" Keith turned his head to where Lance and his father were. "Are you here, too?!"

Eric let go of Lance and sat down on the other side of the bed. He wrapped one arm around Keith's shoulder, "I'm right here, my son."

Keith's face twisted up as he sobbed into his parents' arms. Without any hair to cover his face, it was much more saddening to see him cry. Lance slowly backed up and left the room. He held his hand over his mouth and stumbled through the halls. When he reached the exit, he ran over to the grass and threw up. He dropped to his knees and clutched his pounding chest.

The entire world crashed down on him. This wasn't just another day in the hospital. It was the end. Lance cried out and rocked his body.  _This can't be real._ The sun warmed his back as the cool wind brushed it off. Lance clenched his jaw and shot the sun a hateful glare. Keith went outside. He stayed out for who knows how long. It must have been the sun that triggered it. Curses ran through Lance's muddled head.

 _This isn't right._ Lance gasped through his sobs.  _Not like this! Please!_ He violently shook his head.  _Not like this!_

Keith's parents had to return home that night. They promised they'd return every day. Lance sat in the chair next to Keith and held his hand as he slept. Insomnia hit Lance like a runaway train. He wished for nothing more than sleep. His aching bones begged for rest, but it never came. When the clock reached four a.m. Lance got up, put on his jacket, and went outside. He found a bench on the side of the building and sat down. Lighting the cigarette between his teeth, he tapped his foot and looked up at the stars.

Lance let out a drag and allowed his body to relax. As much as he wanted it, his mind never calmed. All he could think about was what could go wrong while he wasn't there. Maybe Keith was in cardiac arrest. Maybe he was puking his guts out. In the past, he never would have left. This time, however, he needed just a minute to himself. If he was ever going to relax, he needed to get away.

After a couple cigarettes, he phoned an old friend from the area and let him know what was up. He assured Lance that he had something to help and said he would be there in ten minutes.

Lance stood to greet him when he arrived. He held out a hand to perform their signature handshake. "Hey Isaac."

"What's up, bro?" He let out a silly laugh and bobbed. A black hoodie covered his face as grey sweatpants fluttered around his legs. Isaac talked with his hands in a laid-back fashion. "First of all man, look, I'm sorry bro."

Lance waved him off with a half-hearted smile. "It's fine. Thanks, man."

"Yeah," Isaac nodded and kicked a foot out. "So you need to chill?"

Lance shrugged and let out a slight chuckle. "Yeah, you could say that."

Isaac clicked his teeth and clapped his hands together, "Man, I gotchu bro."

"Okay?" Lance gave him a curious smile.

"Here," he turned around and motioned for him to follow. "Let's go to my car."

"Uh," Lance hesitantly followed, "I don't want to leave."

"Man, we won't." He waved him off and got into the driver's side. "Come one, man."

Lance shrugged and got into the car. It was messy.  _Very_ messy. The floorboards were littered with cans while fast food bags were strewn across the back seat. Lance cringed at the uncomfortable smell. "Bro, your car is the worst."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Isaac reached into his hoodie pocket and brought out a small Ziplock bag of white powder.

Lance drew in a quick breath of realization and shook his head. "Man, Isaac, I can't just..."

"Nah, bro, it's cool." Isaac handed him the bag. "It's fine. Doesn't last long." He reached over into the glovebox and pulled out a notebook.

Lance opened the bag and sniffed the air inside. It was almost like a very faint paint thinner smell. "Bro, is this...?"

Isaac took the bag from him and formed two lines on the notebook with a credit card. When he finished, he pulled out a twenty and started rolling it up.

"Isaac, is this coke?" Lance leaned forward in his seat to look at it closer.

Isaac nodded with a jittery smile, "Yeah man, come on." He handed Lance the rolled-up twenty and held up the notebook. "Do you know how?"

Lance was taken aback, "I've never done anything except cigarettes." He shook his head, "Man, I can't do this." He motioned to the hospital. "I've got my husband in there."

Isaac shrugged and took the twenty from him. He handed Lance the notebook and positioned his arms to hold it up. In one quick motion, he snorted one of the lines and leaned back in his chair. "Lance, bro, I ain't gonna force you or anything."

Lance kept the notebook up as he stared at Isaac while he gently took in his high. Maybe it wasn't that big of a deal. One line couldn't hurt. Could it?

"Here," Isaac took the notebook out of his hands and set it back in his lap.

"Wait," Lance stared down at the line of white. He hesitantly nodded and held out his hand, "I'll do it. Gimme that."

Isaac let out a hyper laugh and handed him the twenty. "Alright! Let's do it!" He lifted the book, "You know how?"

"Yeah." Lance put the money up to his nose and plugged one side. Before he could back out, he quickly snorted the line.


	52. Hope

Lance knocked on the open door and smiled. "Good morning."

Keith looked over at him with reddened, swollen eyes. The sunlight filled the space behind the curtains. He brought his hands up to his chest. "Where were you?"

"Just went out to get some coffee." He walked over and sat down next to the bed. "I couldn't sleep."

Keith kept a straight face and took his hand. "Alright."

Lance stood up a little, pulling his mask down to kiss his forehead. "I'm sorry, baby." He covered his mouth again and nuzzled his head into Keith's. "I scared you, didn't I?"

"Yes." Keith turned to hug his neck and pull him close. "Don't leave without telling me where you're going."

Lance chuckled and hugged him back, "Alright. I promise."

Keith placed his hands on Lance's cheeks and fidgeted with his mask. His face was droopy and tired. "I want to kiss you."

Lance closed his eyes and put his hands on top of his. "That's not a good idea right now."

"Why?" Keith leaned toward him. "I'm dying anyway."

"That's enough." Lance stood up walked toward the bathroom. "I'll brush my teeth and stuff so you can."

Keith crossed his arms and pouted, "Fine."

Lance shut the door of the bathroom and leaned his arms on the sink. After taking a couple breaths, he sniffled to clear his throat of any coke. It had a strange way of fake-lingering. After brushing his teeth, he took a shower and put on clean clothes. Everything felt light and airy. It was like the world had shifted. Lance was in the best mood he had been in for a long time. Other than being exhausted, he felt like he was on top of the world. He was hopeful now. Keith  _can_ and  _will_ get better. He just knew.

Lance kissed his nose and giggled. "What kind of boring hospital TV are we watching today?"

Keith laughed a little and hugged his neck. "Just put on whatever. I don't care."

"Gotcha." Lance flipped through the channels and landed on some cooking show.

"What's with you today?"

"What do you mean?" Lance leaned his elbows onto the bed.

"You're just..." Keith shook his head. "You're happy today." He pulled away to lock eyes with him. "I haven't seen that in a long time."

Lance looked into his aging violet eyes, "Is that a bad thing?"

Keith smiled and shook his head, "No, I like it. It's nice." He scooted closer and hugged him tighter. "I need some good vibes around here."

"Mmm." Lance set the remote down and used his fingers to lift Keith's chin. After staring into each other's eyes for a moment, they slowly leaned into a sweet kiss. A small spark clicked in their minds—something that hadn't happened for a long time. Keith laced his fingers into Lance's hair and deepened it, letting their tongues find each other. Lance stood from his chair and let Keith lie back on the bed as he sat on the edge. Keith's hands latched onto his shirt to keep a tight hold on him. Gradually, Lance ended the kiss and pulled back.

Keith kept their foreheads connected, "Wow."

Lance couldn't tame his smile, "Yeah."

"When's the last time we kissed like that?" Keith brought one hand up to hold his cheek.

Lance lowered his head down to rest on Keith's collarbone. "Too long."

After a moment of silence, Keith burst out laughing. "I guess I have to be dying to get laid."

Lance laughed along with him and lifted his head. He gave him a judgmental look, "Or not be a prick."

Keith nodded, "That, too."

Lance shook his head and sat up. He turned his body around and kicked off his shoes. "Alright, scoot over."

Keith made room and stared in question. "Are you sure that's alright?"

Lance lied down next to him, "What? I'm clean."

"Hmm," Keith eyed him, "Are you sure?"

Lance wrapped him up in his arms and pulled him into his chest. He let out a playful chuckle, "Guess you'll have to trust me." As his head relaxed onto the pillow, he suddenly felt tired and calm.

Keith pushed himself up on his elbows and stared down at his face. "You look like shit." He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, "Did you sleep at all?"

Lance closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and shook his head. "Not at all."

Keith returned to the pillow and nuzzled into his chest. He draped Lance's arm over his waist and breathed in his skin. "Then sleep now. You're so tired."

Lance kissed the top of his head through his red hat. He folded his arm up to let Keith lie on his bicep then put his other hand on Keith's lower back. "I love you."

Keith snuggled in closer with a hum of agreement. "I love you, too."


	53. New Drugs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will feature illegal drug use.

Keith was put back on immunosuppressants. The goal was to slow his immune system and get the new cells to stop attacking his body. During this treatment, Lance and Keith spent a lot of time together. They did all they could to repair the relationship that had deteriorated. Slowly, Keith's eyes regained their shimmer and his voice filled with joy. Even if he was in pain, he still smiled and talked.

"Hey man," Lance greeted Isaac with their handshake. "How you doin'?"

"Man, I been doin' great!" Isaac placed his hands on his hips and looked up at the hospital building. "How's your man?"

Lance sighed and shook his head, "They've got him on steroids, but I don't think they're working."

They retreated from the cold night air into Isaac's car. "What makes you say that?"

Lance leaned back and groaned, "Every time they run tests, their faces always look the same." He locked eyes with him. "When you're in the hospital that long, you pick up on things."

Isaac sorted out a few lines of cocaine as they continued. "Does your boy know you're here?"

Lance shook his head, "He's sleeping right now, but I promised to tell him when I leave. So I said I was taking a smoke break."

"He knows you smoke?"

Lance nodded, "I don't very often, so he doesn't mind."

Isaac chuckled and motioned to his lap, "Would he mind if he knew about this?"

Lance's smile dropped. He kept his mouth shut and held out his hand.

"Ah, sorry man." Isaac rubbed the back of his neck and handed him a rolled up bill. "Got it. No questions." He lifted the notebook for him.

"You're fine." Lance took a deep breath and leaned down to the book. He snorted the line and let the high sink in. It was like he was breathing in a pile of fresh laundry on top of the rush. It was pleasant. He kept his eyes closed as he responded. "Keith says I've been really nice."

"Nice?" Isaac handed off the notebook.

Lance held it up for him, "Like happy."

Isaac did his line and nodded, "Oh, I see."

They both sat back in their seats to relax. Lance let his eyes close as he focused on the feeling. A wave of euphoria washed over him and slithered through his veins. His body felt light and relaxed. It made the nausea more tolerable. Lance coughed up a laugh, "I think Keith's gonna die."

"You think?" Isaac looked over at him.

"Mm-hmm." Lance licked his chapped lips and pointed at the book. "Set up another line."

Dr. Sallow clicked his pen and sighed. He looked down at Keith and Lance from the end of the bed. "The steroids Keith have been on aren't working. This happens sometimes with GvHD."

Lance let out a frustrated breath and shook his head, "So what does that mean? What now?"

"Well, this is what we call  _steroid-refractory GvHD_." Dr. Sallow looked down at his clipboard. "Since the immunosuppressants didn't work, we will have to try second-line therapies. But..." he trailed off a little, but started again. "But even though we have other treatment options, I encourage you to participate in clinical trials."

"Clinical trials?!" Keith scoffed and crossed his arms. "I'm not doing that."

Lance rubbed his thigh in support, "Baby, let's think about it."

"No!" Keith yanked his leg away. His eyes were still swollen and his skin continued to thicken and change. It was obvious that he was getting worse.

"I'm very sorry." Dr. Sallow continued, "We're going to try different drugs." He looked into both of their eyes, "We're doing all we can."

Lance gave him a nod and let him leave. When the door shut, he sat back in his chair and let out a long sigh.

"I'm not doing clinical trials." Keith rested his chin on his hugged knees. "If the treatments don't work, then I wanna go home."

Lance turned his head to look at him, letting his arms fall to his sides. He was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Okay."


	54. None of You Are Going to Heaven

Keith got worse. So much worse.

Lance sat next to his bed and stared at his struggling chest. An oxygen mask covered his face as he squeezed his eyes shut. Every once in a while, Lance had to stop him from mutilating his skin. Keith held his stomach as he lied in a fetal position. There was nothing they could do. He was put on so much medication, but it was still painful.

Lance stood to kiss his head. He brought a hand up to hold his cheek and wipe his tears. "It's okay baby, I'm right here."

Keith whimpered and grabbed Lance's arm, hugging it to his chest. He sniffled and spoke in a strained whisper. "It hurts."

"I know, baby." Lance used his free hand to stroke his cheek. "You'll feel better soon."

Keith sobbed and looked up at him, "You mean when I'm dead?"

Lance leaned down and kissed his cheek, "Or when you get better."

"You're delusional." Keith let his head fall back onto the pillow. He stared at the wall with sunken, tired eyes. Lance could see the light in them dim right in front of him. "I'm not gonna get better."

Lance forced a smile, "Not with that attitude, you won't."

Keith clenched his jaw, "Please shut the fuck up."

"I love you."

"Shut up."

Lance leaned down to rest his head on Keith's shoulder. "I love you; and I'm taking you home when you get better."

Keith tried to shake him off, but to no avail. "You're annoying. Get off."

"No."

"Get  _the fuck_ off."

Lance lifted his head and turned around. He gently pushed Keith over and lied down next to him. Keith held Lance's arm tighter. Lance brought his hand up and held his cheek. "Do what you want, but I'm staying here."

Keith glared at him with furious eyes. "You're annoying." He dug his nails into Lance's arm and cried. His body trembled through the pain as he waited it out.

Lance allowed Keith's nails to pierce his skin and his sore teeth to chew on his sleeve. If all he could do was bear this pain, then so be it. It was better than sitting in a chair and half-heartedly telling him everything was going to be okay. Did he believe it? He did once, but seeing Keith writhing in pain as his body was being eaten alive wasn't the most hopeful situation.

But it didn't matter what he thought. Lance had a very deep belief that if Keith thought he was going to survive, then he would. None of the meds worked, the transplant didn't work, chemo didn't work. Keith's fate was all up to whatever god was watching. And if there was no god, then it was all up to him.

If Keith wanted to die, then he would. If he lost hope, he wouldn't last the night. So if telling him that everything was going to be fine helped in any way, then Lance would repeat it until the day he died.

Keith whimpered and clenched his hands down harder, breaking skin with his nails. Lance bit his lip to refrain from flinching.

Keith's eyes flickered up to him. "Sorry."

Lance shook his head, "You do whatever you need to." He wrapped his other arm around Keith's back and relaxed. "I'm here for you." He gently closed his eyes against the stinging. "And everything is gonna be okay."

Lance could feel Keith slipping away from him. Just like water jumping through your fingers, Keith's life was falling through an hourglass glued to the floor. It was torture. Lance begged for something to take his pain away. If he was to die, then he shouldn't be suffering like this. He prayed for any god to pull the trigger if it was his time.

Keith finally fell asleep around two a.m. that night. Lance stayed in the bed until three, then carefully stepped out and grabbed his jacket. He almost put it on, but decided against it and turned back around.

Lance lied his jacket over Keith's sleeping figure and kissed his bare head. He whispered to him through his sleep. "I'll be back soon. I promise."

_"Hey man, what's up?"_

"Isaac," Lance pushed the elevator button and stepped back to wait. "Let's meet up."

_"Hmm? Now?"_

Lance nodded to himself and entered the elevator when the doors opened. "Yeah. Keith's getting worse, man."

 _"Still?"_ There was a moment of shuffling.  _"Alright, bro. Same as usual?"_

Lance hesitated. He took a moment to think, tapping his foot. "No, not this time."

 _"Oh, okay."_ Lance heard a car door shut.  _"So just meet up?"_

Lance took a quick breath, "I mean." Keith ran through his mind. The sound of his crying echoed in his mind. "Give me anything."

 _"Anything?!"_ Isaac laughed on the other end.

Lance sighed, "I don't care man." He rubbed his face and scratched his head. "Let's get fucked up."


	55. Fucked Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will feature illegal drug use.

Isaac showed up in a Subaru Outback with three people with him. He stopped in front of the hospital and rolled down his window. "Lance, my man! Let's go!"

Lance jumped in the back seat as Isaac introduced everyone. On the opposite end was a quiet guy in all leather with tattoos and an attractive jawline—that was Hector. In the middle was a girl with pink hair tied up in pigtail buns. Her name was Beverly. She wore an overwhelming muddy-red lipstick and a miniskirt. In the front was Isaac in jeans and a t-shirt. Next to him was a tall girl with long, straight brown hair and manicured nails—that was Marci.

Beverly took immediate interest in Lance. "Hey there, cutie!" She curled up her nose and showed off an adorable smile. Her looks gave off an innocent vibe, but her actions could label her a slut. She handed him a water bottle, "You're gonna want to drink this."

Lance took it from her and opened it. "Thanks." He couldn't remember the last time he had a drink of water.

Marci turned on the radio to a song with a deep bass. Hector kept his head leaned on his arm as he stared out the window. Beverly leaned into Lance's face and inspected his features. Her voice was high pitched and whiny. "You're new around here, aren't you?"

Isaac lit a cigarette and called back to her. "Don't be hard on him! He's goin' through shit."

"Oh really?" She got close to him again and stared in his eyes. "Your coke buddy's a newbie?"

Lance gave her a smile and nodded, trying to lean away from her cinnamon breath. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Aww!" Beverly swung her leg over to sit on his lap.

Lance held up his arms in surprise and leaned back into his seat. "Woah there."

"Beverly!" Isaac yelled at her from the driver's seat. "Stop bein' a hoe, he's a married man!"

"Really?!" She kept her balance with her hands on his shoulders. "Well, your wife doesn't have to know."

Lance showed off his ring with a sneer, "I've got a husband, sweetie."

Beverly whipped around to face the front, "He's gay?!"

"I'm bi," Lance corrected. He motioned to his lap, "Now could you—"

"Oh!" Beverley waved him off. "That's cool, whatever." She placed something on her tongue and grabbed his chin to connect their lips. A small pill was passed into Lance's mouth, then she pulled away and returned to her seat.

Lance didn't swallow it right away. He furrowed his brows, "What the fuck is this?"

Beverly popped another into her mouth and took it herself. "Molly."

Lance took a deep breath and took a sip of water to swallow it. "Isaac, where we going?"

"To get fucked up."

They all went into the city and walked around. Lance could start to feel the effects of the Ecstasy kicking in. When he looked up, they were entering a club. He quickly pulled Isaac's arm back. "Man, can I even get in there?"

"Yeah, come on." Isaac threw his arm over Lance's shoulder and waved at the bouncer as he walked in. "You're with me, bro."

The club was packed with a crowd of people. They were all dancing or throwing things in the air. Lights flashed while lasers danced over them. EDM blasted through the speakers as the DJ on stage hyped the crowd up. Beverly and Hector were the first to join in the dancing. Lance guessed that they were probably dating. Marci led Isaac and Lance to the back and pulled out a bag of cocaine, showing off to them.

After doing a few lines, they too joined the dance floor. All Lance could feel was this sense of flying and euphoria. Taking both Ecstasy and cocaine together practically doubled the effects of both of them. They spent a few hours at the club, then went to Isaac's house. There, handfuls of different drugs were pulled out.

Marci shot up heroine while Hector and Beverly smoked week. Lance just watched for a while, then decided to try something. Isaac explained a few to him, then waited and let him choose.

"What about crack?" Lance offered. He figured it would be the best choice since he'd done cocaine before then.

Isaac laughed and nodded, "Yeah man, I gotchu!"

Lance didn't remember much after that. It all blurred together in a mess of drugs and music. He faintly remembered meth and krokodil coming out at some point, but he wasn't sure who did what.

He woke up lying on Isaac on his couch. His head pounded and his stomach ached. Realizing the very hungover Isaac under him, he scoffed and stood up to find the kitchen. He chugged a whole bottle of water and groaned.  _I feel like shit._ Beverly and Hector were sprawled out on the floor while Marci was leaned back in an armchair.  _What the fuck even happened?_

Lance ignored his nausea and aching head. He turned around to check the clock. 9:23 a.m. It took a moment for that to register in his mind. "Shit!" He launched himself over the counter and shook Isaac awake.

Isaac groaned and glared up at him, "Man, what?" His voice was laced with sleep and whatever he took last night.

"Dude, you gotta drive me back to the hospital." Lance panicked a little and cursed himself out in his mind. "Keith's gonna be so pissed."

"Oh," Isaac stood up with a tired grunt and snatched his keys off the coffee table. "We gotta go then, bro."

Lance rubbed his face and smoothed his hair down in an attempt to look put-together. He walked as fast as he could through the hospital, trying to avoid running into anyone. There was no way he looked sober.  _Keith's gonna be so mad!_ He tapped the elevator button over and over until it opened, then jumped in.  _If he's alive._

The thought crossed his mind. His breathing increased with every floor he passed.  _What if Keith was dead?_

As soon as the doors opened, he squeezed through them and sprinted down the hall. When he saw his room, he ran faster. Room 1013. Lance darted in and stared at the bed.

His heart stopped and his lungs convulsed.  _No._


	56. Where's My Love

Lance stared in horror at the bright room. Light spilled out from the windows and brought a sparkle to the dusty air. Krolia looked over at him with red, teary eyes from a chair next to the bed. She was dressed in her classic mom jeans and a tucked in purple t-shirt. Eric stood on the other side of the bed, turning around with his hands in his brown suit pockets. Their faces held a heart-wrenching mixture of surprise and disappointment.

Lance's hangover melted into the background as he slowly took a step into the fairytale of a hospital room.  _This can't be happening._ He furrowed his brows and stared down at the sheets.  _How the hell?_

Keith sat on his knees with his hands neatly folded in his lap. Lance's jacket was sprawled out over his thighs as a blanket. He turned his head to look up at Lance when he entered. Clear crystal violet stared up at him in wide eyes full of love. They filtered through strands of shiny black hair. The once inflamed patches of skin had gone down to a faint pink. The swelling and redness in his eyes had disappeared, replaced with the smooth and gentle skin Lance knew. Keith's chapped red lips curved up in a smile as his chest rose and fell in a calm rhythm. "Welcome back."

Lance blinked away the cloudiness in his sight and shook his head. "Uh—I'm def—um—" he ruffled his hair and clamped his eyes shut. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

"Lance?" Keith's voice called up to him in a soothing melody. There was some shuffling in the background. "I'm not mad, everything's okay. Just look at me."

Lance hesitantly lifted his eyelids and stared at him. Keith had crawled forward to get closer to him. He slowly reached a hand up and pulled one of Lance's wrists down. Keeping his eyes locked on Lance, he placed his hand on his cheek. "I'm right here."

Keith's cheek was warm. He could feel the pressure of his thin fingers on his wrist. He could feel the strands of his hair tickle the back of his palm. "You're real?"

Keith chuckled and nodded with glittering eyes. "Yeah."

A tear fell from Lance's jaw, "You're—you're okay?"

Keith closed his eyes and leaned into Lance's hand, lacing his own fingers into the creases from the back. He took a breath and rocked slightly. "Why do you look so surprised? You were the one who said I was gonna be fine."

Lance glance over at Krolia and Eric, who both gave a happy nod. He walked around the railing and sat down next to Keith. He brought his other hand up to hold both of his cheeks, "You're real? You're okay?"

Keith's eyes overflowed as he smiled and nodded, "I'm okay."

Lance pulled his head close to rest their foreheads together. He expected Keith to disappear at any moment. To fall through his fingers in a pile of sand. Lance waited for the moment that he would wake up in some alley covered in vomit that wasn't his own.

But it never happened. Keith was there.  _Actually_ there.

Lance wrapped his arms around Keith's neck and hugged him as tight as he could. He could smell him, touch him, see him. "You're real."

Keith strained to laugh, "Yes, now you're suffocating me."

Lance loosened his hold and pulled back to kiss him. Keith leaned into it and held onto his biceps. Lance could feel their bangs twirl together. Keith broke the kiss and chuckled. "You're holding me like I'll leave you at any second."

"I keep thinking you will." Lance brought him back into the kiss and laced their fingers together. He finally pulled back to rest his head into the crook of Keith's neck. "You're not in pain?"

"Nope." Keith pet his hair, gently pushing it out of his face. "I feel fine."

"Dr. Sallow said that he didn't know why or how it stopped, but Keith looks fine." Eric's voice joined in.

Lance suddenly sat up and ran a hand through the black hair on Keith's head. "What's this?"

"Oh," Keith moved a few strands out of his face. "My mom had it made." He smiled wider and fidgeted with it, "Doesn't it look just like before?"

Lance breathed out a faint, "Yes." He stared at the wig in amazement. Keith's real hair had grown in thin, brittle patches; never getting more than a few inches long. In the end, he just kept it shaved. Lance couldn't remember kissing Keith with hair. It was amazing. He kissed his cheek, "You're so beautiful."

Keith laughed and hung on his neck, "Was I not pretty before?"

"When you were dying?" Lance cradled his head and back. "No."

Keith hugged him tighter and took in a deep breath. They sat in each other's arms for what seemed like forever. Lance tried to choke down his tears and be in the moment, but his mind kept doubting himself. It was still possible he was so wasted that he was hallucinating. He thought that if he held Keith until the hurricane in his mind calmed down, it would be real.


	57. Remission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will feature legal and illegal drug use.

Keith was discharged a week later. He was still on a few medications, but Dr. Sallow said he was cancer-free and it didn't look like any other problems were going to happen. Other than the meds and doctor's visits, Keith got to continue life as the normal teenager that he never was. He had to take a year to build up his immune system, so he continued with homeschooling. Lance offered to do it with him, but Keith told him to stay at the high school and enjoy it while he could.

"Where are you going?" Keith rubbed his tired eyes and leaned against the doorframe of their bedroom. His skin glittered in the moonlight.

Lance finished tying his shoes and stood up, "I'm gonna go out with Isaac." His outfit of choice was jeans and a baggy jacket topped off with a hat he wore backwards.

"Oh," Keith's head lowered and he averted his gaze. His wig was a little messy from him falling asleep in it.

Lance walked over to him and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. He kissed Keith's hair and swayed back and forth. "Do you not want me to?"

Keith latched onto his jacket and nuzzled into his chest, "Of course I don't." His grasp tightened, "But you should go and have fun. Just come back to me."

Lance lifted Keith's chin with light fingers and leaned into a sweet kiss. He kept it slow and methodical. Their eyes stayed closed for a second after they pulled away. "I'll always come back to you."

Keith didn't look convinced, but nodded and gave him a quick kiss. "Okay. Be back before six."

"Gotcha."  Lance kissed him one last time before heading out the door.

Hector and Marci walked into Isaac's house with beer and enthusiastic cheers. Lance didn't like drinking, so he and Isaac snorted cocaine on the coffee table as the others got drunk and shot up.

"Man," Isaac nudged Lance's shoulder, "Congrats on the husband!"

"What's up with his man?" Marci took a sip of her beer as she lounged sideways on the armchair.

Isaac shook his head at her, but Lance jumped in. "It's alright." He turned to Marci and brought a knee up to hug it. "My husband, Keith, had cancer. Now he's in remission, so we are finally back home."

"Oh," she nodded, "So you started using because of him."

"You better watch your mouth." Lance didn't hesitate with his answer. Marci liked to test people, and he wasn't having it.

She smirked, pulling her bright red lipstick up. "Gotcha, Blue."

"Ignore her," Isaac handed him a rolled up twenty.

"She doesn't scare me." Lance kept his eyes on Marci as he said it. After she averted her gaze, he continued the coke lines. After he relaxed in his high, he turned to Isaac. "You wanna get me some crack?"

Lance stumbled in the house with a mild headache. He left his shoes and coat at the door, tossing his hat on the couch. Stretching and yawning, he walked into the bedroom and tugged his shirt off.

"Hey." Keith's sleepy voice greeted him.

Lance turned back to give him a nod, "Hey." He stepped out of his jeans and threw his clothes into the hamper.

"Are you gonna come to bed?" Keith lied back down on the pillow and stretched his arm out.

"Not right now," he snatched his sweatpants from the closet and walked toward the bathroom. "I'm gonna shower."

"Here," Keith rolled over and motioned for him to come. "Give me a kiss before you do."

" _Not right now,_ " Lance snapped turned the shower on. He felt irritable and tired. "I'll be there later."

"Oh," Keith cowered back and rolled over. "Okay, that's fine."

Lance went to step in the shower, but a pang of guilt stabbed his lungs. He rolled his eyes and walked over to Keith. Tugging the blanket down, he smiled and kissed his forehead. "Sorry, baby. I guess I'm just tired."

Keith forced a smile and held his cheek, "That's okay." He pointed to the bathroom and crinkled his nose, "Now go shower, you smell terrible."

Lance chuckled and kissed his cheek one more time. "Alright."


	58. Everything's Okay

"See you, babe." Lance leaned over the counter and gave him a quick kiss before he left.

Keith watched him walk out with a smile, then dropped it and returned to his baking.

"You guys seem better." Shiro tapped the counter and gave him a wink.

"Yeah," Allura nodded. They had masks on, so Keith couldn't see their mouths. "Lance seems really happy."

Keith stared down at the counter and pushed a star cookie cutter into the dough.

"Keith?" Allura tilted her head. "Are you alright?"

Keith looked up at her and opened his mouth to speak. He wanted to scream at them.  _No! Something's off. I don't know what to do._ But he shut it and smiled at them, "I'm great. It's awesome not being in the hospital anymore."

 _Maybe I'm just overreacting._ Lance was happy, they didn't fight, and their relationship had recovered very well. Keith suddenly realized how silly he was being. "Actually, I think I'm a little jealous."

"Really?!" Allura perked up at the sudden drama. "Of who?! Is there a girl?!"

Keith held his hands up in defense, "No, it's not like that!" He laughed at himself, "Lance has been hanging out with his friends so much lately. I guess I'm not used to him being anywhere without me."

"Oh," Allura calmed down and pulled out her phone.

Shiro put a hand on his shoulder, "Things will cool down, I'd just give him space. He did the same for you."

"I know." Keith stared down at the cookie dough and let his mind wander.  _I'm being a baby. Lance let me hang out with Allura and Shiro by myself, so why can't he go out with friends? He's just irritable because he stays out so late._

"What do they even do?" Allura tapped away at her phone.

Shiro shrugged, "Just party and play video games, I think." He laughed, "What else? I mean, it's Lance."

Keith's hands slowly stopped moving.  _I'm cured. They can't call it that yet, but I am. When I came home, I had so many expectations. I thought about how much we would hang out together and just be._ _I should be happy, but I'm not._

_Why am I not happy?_

"Keith?" Shiro tapped his shoulder, bringing him out of his daze. "You alright?"

Keith calmed his heart and nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine."

Keith changed in the bedroom. He tried on a few different outfits, but constantly changed his mind. Lance said to wear anything he wanted, but what does that  _mean_? In the end, he landed on jeans with a striped shirt and oversized beige cardigan. Just as he finished adjusting his wig, Lance knocked on the door.

"Are you ready?"

Keith took one last look in the mirror. It was strange how normal he looked. All those days in the hospital and stuck at home gave him a terrible body image. Now his skin was healing, his body didn't hurt all the time, and he had hair. Fake hair, but hair nonetheless. "Yeah."

Lance offered his arm and led him out to the back porch. Outside, lights were weaved into the railing to frame a glass table with two places set up. Lance reached over to pick up a bouquet of cherry blossoms and powder pink roses. He gave his classic suave smirk and kissed his forehead. "When you agreed to go out with me, I believe you said that you expected dates, flowers, and surprise kissing." His smile widened, "So happy birthday."

Keith took the flowers from him pulled him into a hug, jumping up and wrapping his legs around his waist. He clung to the Lance he knew.  _This_ was his husband. The cliché, spontaneous, charming man that was always there for him. "Thank you."

Lance supported his weight easily and brought a hand up to cradle his head. "I love you." His voice tensed, "I know I haven't been the best husband to you, and I'm so sorry." He pulled back to cup Keith's cheek and stare into his eyes. "But I am so glad you're alive. I'm so grateful that I get to hold you again and not worry."

Keith pulled him into a deep kiss, letting his body rest against Lance's. The cool, autumn air circled around them. Things were alright now. Everything was going back to normal. Keith was learning to live as a normal human; and Lance was returning to his cool, laidback self that loved romance.

Keith relaxed into the kiss. They could finally spend the night together as they once did.  _Everything's okay. Everything's gonna be okay._


	59. Act Five - Thanksgiving

Keith didn't bother to knock on the door and just walked into his parent's house. "Mom! Dad! We're here!"

Krolia emerged from the kitchen in a floral apron with a towel in her hands. "My baby!" She outstretched her arms and brought him into a hug.

Keith pulled back and adjusted his mask, "Who's here already?" He craned his neck to look over her shoulder.

"I'm here!" Anabelle's voice sounded from the kitchen.

"Us, too!" Allura called rafter her.

Keith slipped by Krolia and trotted into the room to greet them. When he disappeared, Lance held his arms up to offer a hug to Krolia. She accepted with a motherly smile, "How are you doing, sweetie?"

Lance took a deep breath, then pulled back. "I'm good. Keith's getting stronger every day."

Krolia's eyes twinkled with a glimmer of hope. The bags under her eyes had gradually faded away over time. "I'm so glad."

Lance's chest warmed and spread to his cheeks. "Me, too." He perked up and locked eyes with her, "And Happy Thanksgiving, by the way."

"Likewise." Krolia motioned to the kitchen and started toward it. "Shall we?"

Lance nodded and joined the clutter of happy voices and dance music that spilled into the empty corners of the house. The air was filled with vanilla and cinnamon, laced with baking turkey. Lance had woken up with a snappy attitude, but it immediately melted away as he watched Keith and Anabelle jump around the kitchen in a peppy dance.

Keith's hair had started growing in a lot better than before. It still wasn't long enough for him to be comfortable, so he continued wearing the wig. His skin had finally cleared, leaving behind small patches of scarring that resembled faint reddish vitiligo. He smiled more, laughed more, danced more. Lance had to give him credit—he'd gotten a lot better at dancing. It was fluid and relaxed unlike before. It was probably because he was always in pain then.

Allura and Shiro turned to wave at Lance from the dining table. "Hey Lance!"

Keith stopped and caught his breath when he noticed Lance. "Hey."

Lance held his hands up in defense, "Don't stop just because I'm here."

Anabelle shot finger guns at him and shook her curly hair. "Bro! What's up?"

Lance repeated the action and laughed, "Anabelle, what's up?"

She let out a happy sigh and put her hands on her hips. "I'm great. Your man's the coolest." A smile painted her cheeks, "Pidge and Hunk are coming, right?"

Lance nodded and wrapped an arm around Keith's waist. "Yeah, they should be here soon."

"Hey kids!" Eric turned around to look at them from the kitchen counter. His hands were covered in flour and sticky dough. "I don't know what the hell I'm doing. Wanna help out?"

Everyone except Krolia was clueless until Hunk arrived, then he took over as the rest of them danced around the kitchen using wooden spoons and whisks as microphones. When dinner was finally done, they scrambled around and found a spot to sit. Eric and Krolia on the left side, Pidge and Hunk next to them, Allura and Shiro on the other side, and Keith and Lance beside them. Annabelle's sat at the end next to Lance.

Keith removed his mask as the others reached for the various platters and passed around a colorful array of bowls. He smirked and set it in his lap, "I'm surprised you're here, Shiro."

Shiro laughed and dropped a scoop of mashed potatoes onto his plate. "Where else would I be?"

Allura snickered, "With a certain somebody."

"Oh my god." He scoffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You guys are relentless."

"Just saying," Keith reached for a slice of turkey with a playful smirk painted on his lips.

Allura twirled her fork between her fingers. "Now that we know, you're never gonna live it down."

"Preach." Keith took a bite of his food.

Anabelle leaned over to Lance, "What are they talking about?"

Lance couldn't hold back his laughing anymore. He shook his head, "Shiro's sleeping with his teacher."

"Lance, I swear to god." Shiro glared at him.

"Ooo!" Anabelle leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "Drama!"

Krolia and Eric shared a smile and continued their separate conversation.

Lance took a few bites of his food as the voices around him faded into the background. The remnants of his headache creeped back from their hole and pounded on his skull. He tried to shake it off and focus, but it just made him even more irritable.

"Lance?" Keith tapped his shoulder and spoke quietly. "Are you alright?"

Lance gave him a confused smile, "Yeah, I'm just fine. Why?"

Keith squinted a little as his face contorted into bewilderment. He motioned to him with his wrist. "Your nose is bleeding."

Lance immediately dropped his fork and covered his nose with his hand. "Uh, I'll—um—"

Curious looks laced with worry shot up at him. Keith slid his napkin out from under his silverware and lifted it toward Lance's face.

Lance gently moved his offered hand away and stood up. "I'll be right back." He swiftly walked down the hall and locked himself in the guest bathroom. When he removed his hand from his nose, a streak of blood stained his skin. Lance turned to look into the mirror. A drop of blood was smeared on top of his lip. He sighed and tore off a paper towel to wipe it away.

Shiro turned to Keith and tilted his head, "What was that about?"

Keith looked into all their concerned eyes and flashed a bright smile. "He's just stressed."


	60. Party at Lance's

"Yo!" Lance leaned over the bar counter and yelled over the music blasting from the speakers. "What do you guys want?!"

Beverly lifted a hand, "We'll have a beer!" She had made herself comfortable in Hector's lap in Lance's armchair.

Marci's shoulders tensed and rocked as she mashed the buttons on the controller. "I'll get something after I fuck Isaac up."

Isaac shoved her over and continued the game. "Same here, but  _I_ will be the one winning."

Marci scoffed with a cheeky smile, "You fucking wish!"

Lance tapped the counter with his fingers and nodded. "Coming right up!" He turned around to retrieve two beers from the fridge. Courtesy of Marci. Keith leaned back against the counter with crossed arms and a mask over his face. His eyes burned into Lance's skin.

Lance popped the bottle caps off and sighed. "What?"

Keith had furrowed brows, but he shook his head. "Nothing."

Lance rolled his eyes and walked over to Hector and Beverly to give them their drinks. He turned to leave, but Beverly spoke up. "Hey, where are you goin'?" She whined and stuck a cigarette between her teeth, "Sit with us!"

Lance swiftly yanked it out of her mouth and tossed it onto the coffee table. "You can't smoke in here."

"Oh," she gave a sheepish smile, "Sorry!"

Lance waved her off and walked back to the kitchen. Keith had his eyes on the floor as he kicked out his foot. Lance went up to him and grabbed his waist, "Baby, what's wrong?"

Keith gave in and leaned forward into his hold. He sighed, "Your friends are nice."

Lance chuckled and kissed his hair, "That was sarcasm." He gasped and leaned back to see his face, "Oh my god, are you jealous?"

Keith furrowed his brows and stomped his foot. "No, I'm not!"

"You so are!" Lance laughed at Keith's reddening cheeks. "Baby," he stepped forward and nuzzled their heads together. He locked eyes with him, "I'm right here."

"No, you're not." He motioned to the living room beside them. There wasn't a wall separating the two, only two tiny steps up to the kitchen. "You're with them. All the time."

Lance glanced over at his friends shouting at each other over the video game on screen. He shook his head and smirked at Keith. "Not right now." He leaned down slightly to grab the back of Keith's thighs and sit him up on the counter.

Keith's face went red, "Lance your—you've got friends right there!"

Lance cupped his cheeks and peeled Keith's mask off. "They don't care." He nudged his head, "C'mon. You're so cute when you're angry."

Keith bit his lip to hide an embarrassed smile. His eyes flickered over to the living room and back at Lance. He took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around his neck, "You're  _so bad._ "

Lance's mouth curved into a wide smile. "Yes, I am." He planted a kiss onto Keith's lips, quickly raising the intensity. Before long, Keith was clawing at his clothes as Lance intertwined their tongues.

"Whoa!" Marci called out from the couch. "Look at the cute husbands!"

Lance pulled back to glare at her, bringing Keith into his chest. He sneered, "You're just jealous!"

Isaac slapped the couch cushion, "You bet your ass I am!" He turned back to the TV. "You guys are too happy!"

"Agreed!" Beverly chimed in as she took a swig of her beer.

Keith slipped his mask back on and jumped down from the counter. Lance laced their hands together and kissed his nose. "See? They love you."

Lance led Keith to the couch and sat him on his lap. He pointed to the TV, "Who's winning?"

"I fucking am!" Marci leaned forward in her adrenaline rush. "Of course!"

"Not for long, bitch!" Isaac shoved her again, keeping his eyes on the screen.

Lance watched them play as he held Keith to his chest.  _This is good._ All of Lance's favorite people were playing together without any hostility. Keith finally got to meet them and didn't have to worry about it. A smile tugged on his cheeks.  _This is great._ He pet Keith's hair and kissed his temple, "I love you."

Keith looked back and him and smiled under his mask, "I love you, too."


	61. Sick

Keith heard the tapping of shoes on the hardwood, waking him from his slumber. He scanned the dark room, not finding Lance in the bed. He rolled his eyes and sighed, tossing the blankets off and walking to the door. "Babe," Keith scratched his head and yawned, "Are you seriously going ou—"

Lance leaned onto the couch with an unsteady arm. His chest screamed for breath as it heaved. Sweat rolled down the sides of his face as he looked up at him with neutral eyes.

Keith stopped in his tracks and stared down at him in confusion. "Lance?"

Lance lifted himself off the couch and held his arms out. "Hey there, baby." He wrapped him up in a hug. "Why are you up?" His voice was slurred and tired. "It's late."

Keith lightly pushed him away, "You woke me up." He cupped his cheek, "Did you just get home? What the fuck happened to you?"

Lance shook his head and waved him off, "It's nothing. I just got chased by some random dog."

Keith raised an eyebrow in suspicion, " _Really?_ " He glanced at the window. "Where?"

Lance walked by him and tugged off his jacket, tossing it to the floor. "Just outside." He stumbled into the bathroom and turned the shower on. "It's nothing baby, just go back to bed."

Keith peeked into the doorway and stared at him with cautious movements.  _Something's not right._ He looked over Lance's skin as he undressed. No cuts or bruises and he didn't smell like alcohol. Keith sighed and shook his head.  _He must be getting sick from not sleeping._

"Lance, hurry and get to bed." Keith fell back into the fluffy blankets. "You're gonna get sick."

"Nah I'm fine, baby."

Keith pushed himself up on his knees and looked back at the fluttering shower curtain. "Just get to bed soon. If you get sick, then it can be serious for me and we won't be able to sleep together for a while."

Lance clicked his teeth and slapped the wall, "I said I'm fine, Keith!"

Keith was tired and quite annoyed with his behavior. "And I said you're not!"

"Ugh!" Lance finished his quick shower and stepped out, yanking a towel off the rack. "I think I would be able to tell if something's wrong with me."

"Can you?" Keith gave him a judgmental look and jabbed a hand in his direction. "Look at yourself! You're exhausted! You need to sleep and eat a proper meal—god knows you haven't had one in a long time."

"What are you? My mom?" Lance angrily fluffed his hair with the towel. "I'm supposed to be the one to care for you."

Keith adjusted his knees to face him and spoke with frustrated hands. "But you aren't even doing that!" He failed at trying to stop his eyes from tearing up. "You're never here! I never get to fall asleep with you or have breakfast with you because you stay out so late!"

"I'm not doing this right now." Lance used his foot to shut the door, cutting Keith off.

Keith stared at the door in disbelief. It took a moment to process what had just happened. When he pieced it together, he jumped off the bed. "Oh, you did  _not_ just do what I think you did!" He shoved the door back open and threw his hands up, "What the fuck?! You don't get to cut me off like that!"

Lance rinsed the toothpaste from his mouth and leaned against the sink. "You were being ridiculous."

" _I'm_ being ridiculous?" Keith pointed at him. " _You're_ being ridiculous! Why can't you just admit that you're pushing yourself too hard?!"

"Because I'm not!"

"Yes, you are!"

Lance shook his head and pushed past him to reach the closet. He slipped on a pair of sweatpants. "I told you. I'm just fine."

Keith jumped up on the bed and crossed his arms. "If you think you're so fine, then go sleep on the couch."

Lance scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. He rested one hand on his hip as the other rubbed his forehead. "Keith, we agreed that we wouldn't sleep separately."

Keith felt a tear drop onto his arm, "We already do."

Lance stared into his heartbroken eyes with a fiery gaze. They kept still and waited for one of them to make a move. Keith blinked away a few more tears and bit his lip to keep it from quivering.

Finally, Lance's face softened. He hung his head and sat down in front of him. "Baby, I'm sorry." His fingers fiddled with the stitching of the comforter. "I didn't mean to make you upset. I'm just tired." Lance locked eyes with him, "You're right. I'm exhausting myself, and I need to stop."

Keith swallowed hard and stared back unconvinced.

Lance let out a sigh and slowly leaned forward to put his head on Keith's shoulder, fighting against his resistance. "I'm sorry. You're right."

Keith took a deep, angered breath and averted his eyes. He wiped his cheeks with his sleeve. "Just get up here and go to sleep before I change my mind."

Lance carefully lifted his head and kissed Keith's cheek. "I'm sorry, baby."

"I know." Keith turned and pulled the blankets over them as they settled into the mattress. He turned away to face the wall, but didn't resist when Lance wrapped an arm around his waist.

Keith kept his eyes on the wall, "Hey Lance?"

"Hmm?" Lance's voice was tired and slurred.

Keith pushed back against his chest to gain more security. He closed his eyes and nuzzled into his arms. "Let's not fight when we're tired anymore. Deal?"

Lance kissed his shoulder then returned to the pillow, hugging Keith tighter. "Deal."


	62. My Fault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will feature mentions of illegal drugs.

Keith sat on the couch with his notebook in his lap and a lit candle on the coffee table. The assignment of the day was to write a paper on some guy he didn't give a shit about. He tried to stay focused and get his work done, but his mind kept wandering. Something just didn't feel right to him. Things weren't the way he thought they would be—not even close.

Keith stopped writing and stared at the wall.  _Was it my fault?_ He couldn't stop the thought from invading his mind. Telling himself that it wasn't anything he did just was not enough anymore.

_"Here," Keith rolled over and motioned for him to come. "Give me a kiss before you do."_

_"Not right now," Lance snapped, turning the shower on. He felt irritable and tired. "I'll be there later."_

Keith tossed his notebook onto the coffee table.  _That was my fault. I made him angry._

_Keith squinted a little as his face contorted into bewilderment. He motioned to him with his wrist. "Your nose is bleeding."_

_Lance immediately dropped his fork and covered his nose with his hand. "Uh, I'll—um—"_

_Curious looks laced with worry shot up at him. Keith slid his napkin out from under his silverware and lifted it toward Lance's face._

_Lance gently moved his offered hand away and stood up. "I'll be right back."_

"That was my fault," Keith's eyes drifted around the carpet. "I shouldn't have tried to wipe it off."

_Keith jumped up on the bed and crossed his arms. "If you think you're so fine, then go sleep on the couch."_

_Lance scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. He rested one hand on his hip as the other rubbed his forehead. "Keith, we agreed that we wouldn't sleep separately."_

_Keith felt a tear drop onto his arm, "We already do."_

"That..." Keith furrowed his brows and crossed his arms. He shook his head, "That wasn't my fault."

"This..." Keith jumped off the couch and went to the bedroom. "This isn't my fault." He yanked the dresser drawers open and searched through every one. After not finding anything, he went to the closet and combed through the clothes and shoes. Nothing.

Keith sighed and rubbed his temples.  _I'm being crazy._ He looked in the end tables, in the bed and mattress, then the bathroom. Nothing. By then, he threw away all rational thoughts and searched the guest rooms. Then the guest bathroom and half-bath.

Keith groaned and slammed his hand against the wall. His head was spinning and his heart raced. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, remembering the medicine cabinet behind it.  _This is it. The last place, then I'm done._

He carefully lifted his hand and tugged the cabinet open. Various bottles and containers were on the tiny shelves. They all looked normal. Nothing was out of place. Keith took a deep breath and leaned onto the sink, "You are being insane."

Even though he knew it was crazy, he grabbed every container and opened them one by one. It seemed like none of them had lied. Keith picked up the next bottle—a larger one—and laughed at himself.  _This is so stupid._

But his smile quickly fell when he opened it to a scrunched up plastic bag. His slim fingers hesitantly tugged it out of its hiding spot and brought it into the world. Keith let the empty bottle fall from his hand and crash to the floor.  _No._ Within the confines of the slim plastic was a pile of white crystals. It swayed from side to side with every one of Keith's movements. He spoke to it as he stepped out of the bathroom and went to the kitchen, tossing it onto the counter. "Please don't be what I think you are."

Keith pulled out his phone and set it on the counter. He picked up the bag and opened it to sniff what was inside. It didn't give off any smell, so Keith closed it and put it back down. He found Shiro's name and texted him.

 **K:** Hey what drugs are white crystals?

He stood up straight and crossed his arms. His eyes stayed locked on the bag. When his phone chimed, he immediately snatched it.

 **S:** Um...I mean that could be meth, heroine, cocaine, maybe other stuff. That's pretty broad. Why?

 **K:** What about the smell? What if it doesn't smell like anything?

 **S:** Keith, are you alright?

Keith groaned in frustration.

 **K:** Just answer me.

 **S:** Hm....I guess it would be cocaine. Can you tell me why? Are you doing homework?

Keith stopped and read his message a couple times. His eyes flickered between the bag and his phone for a minute.

 **K:** Yeah, just some research. Thanks.

Keith slipped his phone back into his pocket and went back to the bathroom to retrieve the bottle. It was empty, so he opened the rest of them he hadn't checked. In one, there was a cloudy razor blade. He closed his eyes and sighed in disappointment.

What was he supposed to do? Lance was so obviously doing cocaine. The attitude, the nosebleed, the junkie friends. It all made sense now. Keith stared at the bottom of the opaque white bottle and tried to sort it all out.

He stared at it for nearly an hour. Then carefully replaced the razor blade and put all of the bottles back. Keith returned to the kitchen and snatched the bag, bringing it back to where Lance had hidden it. He stopped to think as he tried to calm his chest. In the end, he carefully stuffed it back into the bottle and put it on the shelf.

Keith closed the cabinet with defeated hands and left the room. He ran his fingers through his hair as he drifted over to the couch. Picking up the remote to turn on the TV, he sat down and hugged his knees. Keith let his forehead rest on them as he closed his eyes. He sighed,  _This is all I can do._

_Besides, how do I know this wasn't my fault?_


	63. Let Go

"Keith?" Lance nudged his shoulder. "Keith?"

Keith's eyes fluttered open to reveal a smiling Lance knelt down in front of him. He had on a hat backwards and a puffy jacket to compliment it. "Hmm?" Keith sat up from the couch and rubbed his tired eyes. "What time is it?"

"It's eight." Lance leaned forward to kiss his head, then stood up. "Are you hungry?"

The memories of the day flooded back into Keith's mind. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't convince himself that it was all a dream. He couldn't just forget it. Keith looked up at Lance through his flickering eyelashes.

Lance met his eyes with a smile that quickly faltered, "What's wrong?" He knelt down and rested his hands on Keith's knees, rubbing up his thighs in concern. "Do you feel okay? You're not in pain, are you?" The glint of sadness that crossed his irises kept Keith from screaming at him right there.

Keith lifted his hand and hesitantly placed his fingertips over Lance's lips. He let them trace the hills and valleys of his skin. Everything about Lance was beautiful. Keith fell in love with absolutely  _everything_. From his cute freckles that speckled his face and shoulders to the faint limp in his leg. His body was flawless—but it was also the same flawless body that used cocaine and any other drugs he did when he was out.

Lance gave him a confused scoff, "Keith? You alright?"

Keith laced his fingers into Lance's silly caramel hair and cradled the back of his head. "Fuck me tonight."

Lance's eyes went wide, "Uh, what?"

Keith pushed himself forward and pulled his chin up to lock their eyes. He sounded out every syllable as he spoke dreadfully slow. "Fuck me."

"Baby," Lance's voice became low and breathy, "You can't just say things like that."

Keith wrapped his arms around Lance's shoulders and his legs around his waist. He brought his tongue to Lance's neck and breathed in the smoky musk that permeated his skin. "I'm serious."

Lance gave in with a defeated grunt and picked Keith up to lie them both down on the couch. He brought their lips together in a messy kiss as their hands explored each other. Keith yanked Lance's hat off and threw it to the side, then tugged on his coat. Lance kept their lips locked as he lifted his chest and tossed his jacket on the floor. He lifted Keith onto his lap and took his cardigan and shirt off.

Keith was wearing a black lace bralette that happened to be Lance's favorite. When he saw it, he immediately brought his teeth to the strap. "I swear you plan this out."

"I actually don't." Keith was lowered back onto the couch. His fingers slid down Lance's stomach and hastily undid his jeans.

The only thing Keith could handle was to let himself go. He just wanted to cling to the man he knew—it was all he could think about. To prolong the fairytale bliss they were in for a little longer. All he had to do was forget what he saw. And in that moment, he did.

Lance nipped at the back of his neck as Keith was bent over with his fists on the armrest. With teary eyes and sweaty skin, he cried out as Lance turned him into a moaning mess. He looked back at him with bright red cheeks and panted, "I love you!"

Lance kissed between his shoulder blades and grunted with his thrusts. "I love you too!"

~  
  


Keith slowly woke in the bedroom to the sound of shuffling. His eyes fluttered open as he lied still and scanned the dark room for the source of the wake-up. Through the moonlight, Lance slipped on his jacket and shoes. Light illuminated his face as he checked his phone, then slipped it back in his pocket.

Keith watched him carefully open the bedroom door and leave. He knew where Lance was going. It didn't take a genius to figure that out. But he let him go. Keith pretended he was going to play video games with his friends. That nothing bad was happening.

Keith rolled over and shut his eyes again.  _We're fine. Just for a little longer._


	64. Wearing Thin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will feature mentions of illegal drug abuse.

When Keith woke up again, the sun was well over the horizon. Bright, dusty light stabbed through the still air. He quickly sat up in bed and looked over to Lance's side.  _That's strange._ Lance was  _always_ back in the morning to sleep for a few hours then wake Keith up. This time he wasn't.

After a moment of thought, Keith launched himself out of bed and threw on whatever clothes were closest to him, not bothering with his wig and sporting his shorter natural hair.  _Okay, don't panic Keith. He's probably just making breakfast late._ Keith escaped from the bedroom and scanned the house. He calmed his racing chest and looked in the guest bedrooms and bathroom then outside.

With a frustrated huff, Keith pulled out his phone and called Lance. After three voicemail boxes, he stopped and called Isaac instead.

Isaac answered after a few rings. " _Hello?"_

"Isaac, it's Keith."

_"Oh, hey! What's up?"_

Keith looked out the front window for Lance's car, which was nowhere to be seen. "Is Lance with you guys? I don't think he came home last night."

 _"What?"_ There was some shuffling and distant voices. " _He's not here, but he was last night."_

Keith sighed and rubbed his forehead, "Okay, thank you." He went to hang up before he heard Isaac's voice protest.

_"Hey, Keith! Don't worry about him. I'll get Beverly, Hector, and Marci to help me look. They're all here. You just stay home."_

Isaac's voice was shaky and panicked. Keith knew what that meant, even though he wished he didn't. "Isaac, I would love it if you guys helped; but I'm gonna go look for my husband."

_"Keith, I don't think that's a good idea. I mean—uh—Beverly thinks she remembers where he might be."_

"Isaac." Keith snatched his mask off the counter and stuffed his feet into his black rain boots. Outside had quickly become dim and rainy, so he had to be careful. "Isaac, where is it?"

_"Keith I don't—"_

"Isaac!" Keith shut his car door and shoved the keys in the ignition. "I know, okay! I know about Lance!"

There was silence on the other line for a few seconds.  _"You know? He told you?"_

"No," Keith slid his hand over the steering wheel, "I found some cocaine yesterday."

_"Man, Keith I'm so sorry. I didn't—"_

"Isaac, I don't care right now." Keith backed up out of the driveway. "Where are you guys looking?"

Isaac handed the phone off to someone else.  _"Hey Keith! It's Beverly. We were downtown last night at the clubs, and I don't remember if Lance came back with us."_

Keith swallowed his creeping anxiety, "You don't think he went home with someone, do you?"

 _"Oh no way!"_ Beverly said something to someone next to her.  _"Even when he was high, Lance was disgusted when people hit on him. Sorry, by the way."_

"Yeah, whatever." Keith turned down the road to the other side of town. "Look, I'm on my way. Lance hasn't answered his phone which is really strange. I wouldn't be this concerned if I didn't know about the drugs."

_"No, I completely understand. We'll find him. It's gonna be okay."_

Keith sighed and honked at a car the cut him off, throwing his hand up in frustration. He rolled his eyes, "Beverly what the hell did you guys do last night?"

 _"Like drugs? I mean, we have a lot. I don't know what Lance did though."_ Her voice cut off as she pulled the phone away from her ear and shouted,  _"Wait, I think that's him!"_

Keith's heart stopped, "Where are you guys?!" As soon as he said it, he saw Hector jump out of a car parked on the street. He immediately hung up the phone and parked behind them, launching himself out of the car and running up to him. "Hector!"

Keith shielded his eyes from the rain and looked around. They were stopped in front of two brick buildings. Between them was an alley crowded with garbage bags and rusted barrels on either side. Hector pointed between them and shouted over the rain, "There!"

Keith ran into the alley as his eyes processed what he had pointed at. Lying in front of a grimy dumpster was a very muddy Lance. He was sprawled out in the rain on his back with an arm outstretched. A crippled angel with his wings drenched in muck. An abhorrent sight of the pathetic man Keith loved so much.

Keith's knees fell into a puddle of moldy water as he dropped down to Lance's side. He ignored the disgusting feeling of it soaking into his clothes and tugged on the lifeless body of his lover. As much as he screamed his name, he didn't wake. His chest was moving and he would occasionally groan, but he wasn't present.

Marci and Hector knelt down to his side to check his pulse and breathing. The world had flattened to a ring for Keith. A sudden thought squeezed into his mind.  _Is this how Lance felt when I collapsed?_ Keith's hands were tight and his head pounded. The only thing he felt like doing was screaming.

Keith snapped out of his head and turned to Hector. "What's wrong with him?! What did he take?!"

Hector shrugged and stuttered out, "I-I mean—I don't know! We were doing the usual! Well—I guess—I mean we were shooting up ice in the car together—"

"You were shooting up meth with my husband?!" Keith glared at him, then yanked Lance's sleeve down. Way too many track marks dotted his arm. "Dammit!"

"Guys, let's get him to the car already!" Marci stood and pulled on Lance's other arm. Hector wrapped his arm around his shoulder and drug him back to the cars.

"Put him in mine!" Keith ran forward and leaned the passenger seat down.

Hector maneuvered him into the car and said something to him.

Keith noticed and shoved him out of the way, not caring where he landed. "Lance?!"

Lance's bloodshot eyes half-opened to meet his stare. He spoke in a slurred and droopy voice as a smile tugged on his cheeks. "Hey baby."

Keith patted down his jacket, "Do you have anything on you?"

"Any what?" Lance lifted his hands in a drunken state.

Keith locked eyes with him, "Drugs. Do you have any drugs on you?"

Lance giggled and patted his shoulder, "You don't wanna do drugs, baby. They're bad for you."

Keith rolled his eyes and checked all his pockets. A small bag of ecstasy was in his jeans, so Keith took it and shut the car door. He turned to Hector and slapped the bag into his hand. "I'm taking him to the hospital."

Hector put the pills in his pocket. "Keith I'm really sorry."

Keith glared at him and walked around the car to reach the driver's side. "I'll kill you later. Right now I'm gonna go save my mess of a husband."


	65. Who's at Fault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will feature mentions of illegal drug abuse.

Keith picked at his jeans as he sat in the hospital room. He knew it wasn't safe to be covered in whatever was in the water, but he couldn't afford to leave just yet. He had gone to the bathroom and tried to wash if what he could, but it still stained his clothes. As annoying as it was, Keith stopped messing with it and leaned his head back and folded his arms.

Lance lied in the hospital bed hooked up to machines. The heart rate monitor had calmed down from its rapid speed a few hours earlier. After Keith had confessed to him taking drugs, including meth, the police were called and asked him a few questions. They couldn't charge him with anything because he didn't have any on him and he didn't drive himself to the hospital; so they eventually left. Now, Keith sat curled up in a chair next to his bed and waited. He should've been tired, but he was just relieved Lance was alright. It was the one emotion he could handle at the moment. Keith took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Lance stirred in the bed, catching his attention. He stayed in the chair as Lance found his bearings. Curious eyes flickered open and fought against the light. They slowly drifted from the IV in his arm over to the chair. He gave a confused look and let out a croaky voice. "Keith?"

Keith kept his arms crossed and nodded, "Hey Lance."

Lance looked around the room, "Where—what am I doing here?"

"You OD'd." He looked down at his muddy rain boots that had tracked dirt into the room and stained the fabric of the chair. "We found you in an alley downtown."

Lance furrowed his brows and hung his head, "Oh." His fingers picked at the blanket. "On what?"

Keith shook his head and scoffed, "Heroine? Cocaine? Meth? Who knows..."

Lance kept his head down as he processed the situation he was in. After a minute of silence, he spoke sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

Keith's head snapped down as he looked at him. "You better be fucking sorry. Do you have any idea what I've been through in the past few days?" He shook his head as he scolded him. "What were you thinking?"

Lance bit his shaking lip, "I'm sorry you had to find out this way."

"I didn't."

Lance quickly raised his head and gave him a look of confusion. "What?"

Keith sighed and tightened his crossed arms. "I've known for a while now. When you didn't come home last night, I figured something like this had happened. I ended up calling Isaac and they all helped find you."

Lance pulled his knees up and rested his elbows on them. He sighed and rubbed his face. In the hospital gown, his arms stuck out and showed off the track marks. It made Keith sick to look at them.

Keith dropped his feet off the chair and leaned forward. "How did this start? When did you start using and why?"

Lance kept his eyes closed and face in his hands. "When you were dying from the GvHD. I couldn't sleep or stop my mind from picturing you dead."

Keith's heart stopped. His face softened and contorted into horrified realization. A stinging covered his eyes as they teared up. "This is my fault?"

Lance quickly snapped his head over to look at him. "No, it's not. This is not your fault."

"Yes it is." Keith dropped back in his chair and covered his face. "Dammit, what the hell was I thinking?"

"Keith," Lance reached over the bed and set his hand on his knee. "This  _is not_ your fault.  _I_ did this to myself."

A tear fell down his cheek, "But I was so focused on myself that I didn't stop and ask if you were okay!" He leaned forward and tapped his chest. "I was so selfish and  _mean_ to you in recovery." He locked teary eyes with him, "I'm so sorry."

"Keith, that's not—"

Keith stood up and yanked Lance into a desperate hug. "I'll be there for you, okay? I'm not dying anymore, so it's my turn." He tightened his hold, "I'll be your rock."

Lance's hands slowly gave in and held him back, letting him sit on the bed. He buried his nose into Keith's neck. "Okay."

Keith kept them together, "The doctors said you were lucky you didn't have a heart attack or stroke." His throat stung, "I was so scared! I thought I wouldn't see you again!"

Lance gulped and tried to mask his shaky voice. "I'm alright now. We'll go home and get better."

Keith nodded, "They've got you on a twenty-four hour psych hold." He rested his head on Lance's shoulder, "I don't wanna leave, so I'm staying here."

That's when Lance finally noticed how dirty he was, "Wait, Keith, you're filthy."

Keith chuckled, "Thanks."

"No that's not what I mean." Lance picked at his clothes. "You need to get clean so you don't get sick."

Keith lowered his eyes, "But I don't wanna leave and I can't call anybody."

Lance sighed and nodded in realization. "Because you don't want them to know about the drugs."

Keith thought for a moment, then pulled out his phone. "I'll call Shiro and tell him not to ask any questions."

Lance looked over his shoulder, "Do you think he will?"

Keith put the phone up to his ear, "He's gonna have to."


	66. Tracks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will feature mentions of illegal drug abuse.

Shiro walked in the hospital room and tossed a bag to Keith. "Anybody wanna tell me what the hell is going on here?"

Keith stood up with the bag in his hands, "Thank you, Shiro. I owe you big time."

Lance gave him a sheepish smile, "Yeah, thanks."

Shiro crossed his arms and eyes him in the bed. "What the hell did you do?"

Keith slapped his arm on the way to the bathroom. "I said no questions." He set the bag down and took his mask off to clean it. "And don't tell anyone we're here or that you came."

"Yeah, alright." Shiro switched his intense eyes between them until Keith shut the door to shower. He turned to Lance, "What the hell did you do?"

Lance shrugged and hung his head, "Uh—just—something bad." He quickly held up his hands, "But I'm okay now, so you don't have to worry!"

Shiro didn't look convinced. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Lance, I'm not gonna force you to tell me, but I swear to god if you hurt Keith I'll shove my foot  _so far_ up your ass you won't shit for weeks."

"Understood." Lance fiddled with his hands as he sat cross-legged under the scratchy blankets.

"But what  _can_ you tell me?" Shiro sat down in the chair Keith was in. "Is everything okay...?" His eyes trailed down to Lance's arms and filled with disappointment.

Lance followed his stare down to the track marks on his forearms. "Uh—!" He quickly covered them with his hands. There wasn't anything he could think to say, so he sat there with his mouth open.

"Oh Lance," Shiro leaned onto his knees and rubbed his face. He took a breath to think, then lifted his eyes. "What was it? Coke?"

Lance uncovered the marks and looked down at them. The reddened punctures screamed at him for more. He shrugged, "Some of them."

"Heroine?"

Lance nodded.

"Meth?"

Lance's eyes filled with regret as he hesitantly nodded again.

Shiro sighed and leaned back in the chair. He crossed his arms, building up a wall between them. All his anger and disappointment was shot and absorbed into the cracked bricks.

Lance lifted his knees to hug them as he waited for Keith to return. The last place he wanted to be at that moment was alone in a room with Shiro.

"They got you on psych hold?"

Lance nodded, "At first it was twenty-four hours, but now they're gonna keep me for seventy-two."

Shiro shrugged and averted his eyes, "I figured." He rubbed the back of his neck, "They'll let you go since you've got Keith."

"You sure?" Lance kept his head down and raised his eyes.

Shiro took a deep, long breath. His eyes glazed over as he sunk back in thought. A wave of nostalgia seemed to stun his body, but definitely not in a good way. He clenched his jaw and nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure."

Lance eyed him carefully. Shiro was too disturbed by the situation to not be educated. "How do you know?"

Shiro's eyes met his, casting a harsh glare. "My father OD'd a lot when I was growing up."

Lance's eyes widened with surprise. Shiro was only eighteen, just like them, and he had been through so much more than they knew. "What about now?"

"He's dead." The muscles in his neck tightened as he clenched his fists. "Heroin binge."

Lance's chest fell in pity. "Oh," he brought his eyes back to the blanket, "I'm so sorry."

Shiro shook his head, "Don't be. He didn't give a shit about anything but himself."

"What about your mother?"

He let out a soft chuckle, "My  _dad_ is doing just fine these days. I've got a step-mother now."

"Oh," Lance perked up, "I didn't know that."

"You never asked."

The shower turned off, bringing both of their attention to the door. Shiro picked at his clothes, "Hey Lance?"

"Yeah?" He turned to meet his eyes.

"I need you to do me a favor."

Lance waited for more, but he realized that he expected an answer. "Okay, sure."

Shiro leaned forward in the chair, getting close to Lance's face. He glared into his eyes with blazing irises. "Get clean." He pointed at the bathroom door, "That boy needs you and I don't want him to go through what my dad did."


	67. Act Six - Withdrawl

Keith sat sideways in the armchair and read a book. He genuinely liked the story, but he was always yanked out of his head with Lance's fidgeting. The TV was on and his eyes were on it, but there was no way he was actually retaining any information. He would occasionally shift his weight, then cross and uncross his arms, then stretch, then sit back or forward. Over and over as if he was in a time loop. He twirled a pen in between his fingers for a while, then threw it on the coffee table—only to pick it up again a few seconds later.

Keith stared at him with annoyed eyes. After the third time picking up the pen, he'd had enough. "Stop it!"

Lance finally noticed his stare and gave him a sheepish smile, setting the pen back down. "Sorry."

Keith returned to the book when Lance sat back and relaxed. He read a few paragraphs before Lance switched positions again. Keith slammed the book shut and dropped it in his lap. "Lance! Please, just sit still for more than five seconds!"

"I can't, okay?!" Lance sat forward and leaned onto his knees, rubbing his forehead with his palms. "I need something."

Keith sighed and shrugged in annoyance, "Do you want me to make you something to eat?"

Lance took a long breath then nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Keith tossed the book onto the coffee table and walked over to the kitchen. He tried to be understanding and forgiving, but Lance's withdrawal symptoms were the most annoying things he had to deal with. Being the caregiver was  _so_ much different. He didn't know how Lance ever dealt with all his shit when the roles were reversed.

Lance got up to wrap his arms around Keith's waist and rest his chin on his shoulder. Keith stopped making the sandwich he had chosen and leaned onto the counter. "Do you need something?"

His hands ran up Keith's stomach and hips. He kissed his neck, "Forget the food."

Keith let out a defeated sigh, "You're so complicated."

"I know, right?" Lance ground his hips against his ass. "I know you're sick of my shit, you don't gotta hide it."

Keith laughed and wiggled out of his hold. He pointed a playful finger at him, "You are so annoying, it's like babysitting a puppy with ADHD." He yanked a dish towel off the counter and snapped it on his thighs, "Who gets horny at random times!"

Lance tried to shield himself from the towel, "Okay! Okay! You win!"

Keith stopped and tossed the towel back onto the counter. He turned back to Lance and put his hands on his hips. After a moment of thought, he dropped to his knees.

"Uh-!" Lance took a step back and gave him a shocked look.

Keith rolled his eyes and slid forward to reach him. He undid Lance's jeans with nimble fingers.

Lance panicked a little, "Keith, you don't have to—"

"Oh my god, would you shut up?" Keith looked up at him. "Do you want me to get you off or not?"

After receiving a blank expression, Keith undid his jeans and tugged on them. He lifted Lance's shirt to kiss just below his belly button, then nuzzled into his crotch on top of his boxers.

Lance's breath hitched as he kept trying to find something to do with his hands. "Keith—I just—are you sure?"

Keith clicked his teeth and leaned back to give him a judgmental look. He spoke slow and deliberately, "I'm literally centimeters away from your dick. What's up with you?"

"You just—" He fidgeted his hands. "You haven't ever really done this before."

"Does that scare you or something?" Keith tugged his jeans down a little more. "I just haven't done it to you. Now are you done?"

Lance shut his mouth and nodded.

Keith resumed what he was doing before he was interrupted. He peeled back down Lance's boxers and took his dick into his hand, stroking gently but with an adequate amount of pressure and speed. He glanced up to meet his eyes, then brought his mouth to the shaft. Using his tongue, he trailed up to the head and lapped at the underside.

"Keith," Lance had become weaker and gained a low, breathy voice.

Keith put his mouth around the top and hummed for a second, then retreated to repeat the action. Lance's hand drifted over his hair, which annoyed Keith for some reason, so he looked at it and nodded. "You're fine. Go ahead."

No with permission, Lance carefully laced his fingers into Keith's wig and held his head. Keith teased him with a couple kisses, then took him in his mouth. Lance's hand tensed as he held back his voice. Keith set up a rhythm and encouraged Lance to cut out his gentle act and use his hand to push down harder.

"Keith," Lance breathed out, "Go a little faster."

Keith took his mouth off and smirked up at him. "Make me."

He returned Lance into his mouth and let him take control. Keith's eyes teared up a little with the pressure, but he didn't mind. In fact, it only seemed to turn on Lance more. With Lance's own personal thrusts, he finished with Keith's hair balled up in his fists.

When he released, Keith swallowed to clear his mouth and wiped his lips. He stood up and let Lance take care of his jeans. Turning back to the counter, he turned the sink on to wash his hands. "Now go sit down and I'll bring your food."

Lance gave him a cheeky salute and backed up toward the couch. "Yes, sir."


	68. A Gun

Keith was cleaning when he found the gun. A small black pistol tucked away in the corner of Lance's drawer. He stared at it for a few minutes before carefully picking it up and walking out into the kitchen. Standing with the gun in hand, he stared at Lance as he cooked.

Lance heard him walk over, but didn't look to acknowledge him. "Hey baby, do you wanna do the regular chicken or—" He finally did a double take and stopped his tasks when he saw his hand.

Keith kept his eyes on the gun, letting the cool metal crease his palm. "Lance, what the fuck is this?"

Lance's breathing quickened, "That's..." Keith met his eyes. "That's a gun."

Keith gave him a dramatic nod, "I see that." He waved it a little to emphasize his words. "What the fuck is it doing in our house?"

"I," Lance locked his lips and fiddled with the towel on the oven door, "I take it—used to take it when I met with a dealer."

Keith's chest was silent. His lungs were slow and his heart was calm. He popped his lips, "This is your drug gun?"

"No," Lance pointed at it, "That is my defense gun."

"Lance," Keith sighed, "Can I ask you how the hell you even got a gun?"

Lance opened his mouth to answer, but opted to let out the breath he was holding. After a few seconds, he finally asked, "Do you really wanna know?"

Keith sighed and shook his head, "I guess not."

They continued staring at each other in a battle that neither of them knew they were fighting. Keith didn't even know what to say. All he could do was give in and return to what he was doing. Hesitantly, and with confused eyes, Keith returned to the bedroom. He stared down at the gun in his hand.  _What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?_

During a lapse in judgment, Keith didn't put the gun back in Lance's drawer. Instead, he pulled out his suitcase and stuck it into a small pocket on the inside. It was the safest place he could think of at the time. There was no way in hell that he was giving it back.  
  
  
  


"I don't know, Shiro." Keith hugged the fluffy pillow on Shiro's couch. "It's just different."

"Well, how is he doing?" Shiro sat next to him and leaned his elbows on his knees. "I mean, is he treating you right?"

Keith flashed back to the previous few days. "Yeah. We're like really good."

Shiro gave him a concerned look, "Then why are you so worried?"

Keith wanted to tell him about the drugs and the gun and all of the junkie friends, but he couldn't. "I just don't want him to do anything stupid. He's been under a lot of stress this past year and I'm afraid that he's not alright."

Shiro took a deep breath and pat his back, "He looks fine. I think he's gonna be fine now that you're alright."

Keith nodded, "Maybe."

No matter how much time passed, Keith still felt like something was wrong. An annoying itch bugged his mind all hours of the day. Lance was most certainly  _not_ fine. If he was, he wouldn't have done drugs in the first place. But what was Keith supposed to do? He had tried all he could to support Lance and give him what he needed, but it didn't feel like enough.

Everything Keith did was never enough. Lance was still irritable and depressed. He still didn't have that spark he harbored when they first met. It had gone out long ago and been replaced by a hollow void that needed much more than Keith to fill.

Keith rested his chin on the pillow, "Hey Shiro?"

"Yeah?"

He kept his eyes on the fireplace in front of him. "How did your dad handle being with a drug addict?"

Shiro's eyes fell into a deep trance as the memories flashed before his eyes. "He...didn't actually. It was so hard on him to keep everything together." A smile tugged on his lips. "I never went without—he made sure of that. However, as much as my dad loved him, he fell into depression. It took a long time for him to recover, but now he's doing great and has the best wife."

"So," Keith thought about his words, "Was it okay for him to stay? Or would it have been better for him to leave?"

Shiro thought about his words for a minute. They seemed to bewilder him and claw at his mind. "I guess..." he trailed off, but recovered shortly after. "I guess that it's best to leave, but it has to be for the right reasons and at the right time. I know that's complicated, but everyone is different." He looked back toward the happy voices in the kitchen, "My dad wouldn't be the same person if he had done anything differently."

Keith looked down at his feet and let the cheerful atmosphere hug him and warm his cold chest. "Yeah, I guess so."


	69. Get Out

A soft tapping on Keith's shoulder brought his mouth of his sleep. Rubbing his eyes and stretching, he lifted himself off the papers on the desk and looked over at who woke him.

Lance leaned down to kiss his head, "Hey baby."

Keith brought his head back down to kiss his lips, "Sorry, I fell asleep while drawing."

Lance's eyes ran over the sketches and half-painted pictures. "These are really good. I told you you were an amazing artist."

"Yeah, forever ago." Keith stretched his back and stood up from the chair. "Whatever let's get to bed."

When Keith finally took a moment to notice what Lance was wearing, his heart sank. He shook his head, "No."

Lance followed his eyes down to the jacket and shoes he had on. "Keith, I just wanna—"

"No," Keith crossed his arms.

Lance was taken aback, "I'm not gonna do anything, I just wanna hang out with my friends."

" _No._ " Keith held his ground. There was no way he was going to allow this.

"Keith, I can't just stay cooped up here."

Keith furrowed his brows, "Do you  _honestly_ think that I'm gonna let you go out?" He shook his head in dramatic disbelief and rolled his eyes. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"Why don't you just trust me?!" Lance snapped and cut through the air with his hands.

Keith clenched his fists and leaned toward him, "Because I found you half-dead in an alley!"

"What? So I'm supposed to just stay here all the time?!" Lance motioned to the house. "It's sickening!"

"What is?!" Keith eyed him with fiery irises. "The house or me?!"

Lance pointed at him, "That's not fair!"

"How is that not fair?!" Keith threw his hands up in frustration. "You're sick of me, just admit it!"

"That's not true!"

"Yes, it is!"

Lance groaned and backed up, "I am not gonna stand here and let you scream at me for no reason." He went out to the living room.

Keith stomped after him, "For no reason?!" He yanked a pillow from the couch and threw it at him. "What the hell do you think—" he threw another, "—I am doing all this for?!"

Lance smacked the pillows out of the air to shield himself, stopping in front of the door. "I thought you said not to fight while we're tired anymore!"

"Are you fucking serious right now?!" Keith chucked another pillow at him, "You're a coward."

Lance rolled his eyes and shifted his weight. "I'm not a coward, I just don't want to fight right now."

Keith crossed his arms, "Because you want to get back to your junkie friends?"

" _Because,"_ Lance bared his teeth, "I don't want to leave you like this."

Keith's whole body filled with rage. His veins pumped stinging cold fury through his fingers to the tips of his toes. The amount of love he harbored for this defiant man amazed him. With anyone else, he would have ripped their tongue out long before this point. Keith swallowed the anger in his throat and sneered. "Then don't."

Lance's eyes widened a little as he met Keith's glare. He opened his mouth to respond, but couldn't find any words.

Keith tried to calm his shaky breathing, "Let me make one thing  _very_ clear." He spoke slowly and emphasized all the syllables. "If you go out and get high, I will leave your ass."

They fought silently with their eyes for a few minutes. The atmosphere had long shifted and coated their throats. It suffocated them as they waited for any movement to pounce on. Keith held back the tears and bit his lip.  _What the fuck are you doing?! Don't leave me! Just stay and we'll work this out! I don't care if we don't sleep at all tonight. Let's fix this right now!_

The words Keith screamed in his mind couldn't be formed into audible cries. His lips and tongue were paralyzed with heartbreaking fear. The only thing he could do was wait.

After what seemed like hours, Lance sighed and tore his eyes away. He hung his head to avoid looking at him and snatched his keys off the coffee table. "I'll be back in a few hours." He yanked the front door open and stepped out, "Don't wait up, I'm not gonna be stupid."

Keith started to walk forward to stop him, but the door slammed before he could reach him. He stared through the dim room that had once contained their screaming voices. It felt empty and dismal. Much more than it had when they were fighting. Did he believe that Lance wasn't gonna do any drugs? No, but he wanted to.

Keith gave him the benefit of the doubt and listened to his car door shut. When he was too far to do anything, Keith dropped to his knees and held his shaking body. His hyperventilating burned his throat as tears dropped onto the hardwood.

_Why didn't he stay?_


	70. Repercussions

When Lance came back home, Keith didn't acknowledge him. Silence permeated the air as they went about their routines. Breakfast was eaten separately, Lance showered in the guest bathroom, and they avoided each other as much as possible.

Lance knew he fucked up. Last time he left, Keith thought he hated him. He almost died in a car accident and may not have seen him again. This time, he broke his heart. Not talking to Keith was the worst torture he had endured. All Lance wanted to do was hug him and beg for forgiveness, but it wasn't the time.

Lance didn't do any drugs. It's not like it mattered anyway—Keith would never believe him. All he wanted was to get out and be free for a night. He wasn't aware that the price of freedom was the stability of his marriage. If he could go back, he would have held Keith and told him he wasn't alone. He would have stayed.

But he didn't.

Keith walked into the kitchen with his boots and mask on. He stopped wearing his wig so often and sported his shorter hair. He held his clasped hands in front of him and locked reddened, sore eyes with Lance. "I'm going to eat dinner at Shiro's tonight. I'll be back around ten."

Lance's chest ached and his head was muddled. He hesitantly nodded, "Okay."

Keith stared at him for a few moments in silence, then turned to leave.

Lance quickly jumped after him. "Wait, Keith!"

Keith stopped and pivoted on his toe to turn around. His once bright crystal eyes had glazed over into a matte mauve with scarlet eyelids. "What?"

"Don't go," Lance's mouth felt dry and stuffed with cotton, "let's fix this."

Keith's expression didn't change. He just stared back for a few seconds before responding. "Why should I?" He clenched his fists. "I said the same thing to you, and you  _left me._ "

Lance's heart felt like solid concrete. It pushed on his ribs and suffocated his lungs. "Because I love you." He tried to calm his panicked breathing, "Don't you still love me?"

Keith let out the breath he was holding and averted his eyes. "Of course I do." He turned and grabbed the door handle, "That's why it hurt so much."

Lance quickly grabbed his hand, "Wait! Please!"

Keith whimpered and slapped his hand away. His eyes had filled with crystal tears that soaked into the rim of his mask. As soon as Lance jumped back, Keith threw his arms around his neck and pulled him into a frantic embrace. Lance used one arm to brace his back and the other to cradle his head. Keith's hands balled up his shirt as he cried into his shoulder. "Please don't leave me!" He desperately shook his head, "Never again!"

Lance held back his tears and held him tighter. "I won't leave. I'll stay." He lifted Keith off the ground and let his wrap his legs around his waist. "Even if you tell me to, I'll never leave."

Keith pulled away to yank his mask off and throw it on the couch. He quickly wiped his face and returned to the desperate hug. "You can't do that to me!" His slim fingers threaded into Lance's hair. "I love you too much."

Lance kissed his tear-stained cheek, "I love you, too." He sniffled and buried his face into Keith's neck. "I didn't do any drugs, I swear."

Keith adjusted his arms to squeeze him tighter, "I believe you." He finally pulled back to cup his cheeks and kiss his lips.

Their love was destructive.  A full-blown war sprawled across Egyptian cotton. Every touch brought bombs of regret. Each kiss sealed their fate. If Lance had known Keith's skin could be so addictive, he would've gotten drunk on him instead of the drug of the day. If he had known that being tangled up with him was as maddening as standing in front of a firing line, he would've gotten his adrenaline rush from the bedroom instead of a few lines.

And maybe they could fix it. Maybe they could wake up next to each other and start again. Would that change anything or make it worse? Lance couldn't live without Keith, that much he knew for sure. He despised the drugs that kept him away. May they find someone else's life to fuck up.

May this neoteric form of love heal their broken hearts and dispel the addiction that tore them apart in the first place. Lance was ready to try again. He was ready to fight for the love he ruined. Even if he was destined to become just another body in no man's land.


	71. Learning To Fly

"No, you fall back first." Lance laughed as Keith looked down at his feet.

Keith stood with his back to Lance's chest. "Why do  _I_ have to fall back?"

"Because you're doing the girl part," Lance nudged his head toward the TV screen.

Keith furrowed his brows and pouted. "Why do I have to do the girl part? Why don't you do it?"

Lance laughed and tightened his hold on Keith's waist. "Because you're smaller!"

Keith scoffed, "That's a stupid reason."

"Do you really think you can pick me up and toss me around?"

Keith gasped and widened his sparkling eyes. An excited smile flashed across his face, "We're doing that?!"

"Well, if you can figure out how to fall back first!" Lance eyed his legs, "Can you do the splits?"

Keith's face contorted into a mixture of concern and curiosity. "No!" He looked back, "Do I have to?"

Lance shrugged, "I mean, it looks cool."

Keith drew in a long breath as he debated. "I'm gonna do it."

Keith knelt down to try putting himself into the splits, but couldn't go very far and ended up falling on his ass. Lance laughed at him and offered a hand, "Well, don't just try it without warming up!" He helped Keith up, then turned to the side, "Watch."

Lance knelt down and held himself up as he easily got into his front splits. He lifted his arms to frame him, "Ta-da!"

Keith crossed his arms and stared down at him. "Show-off."

"Well," Lance stood up and adjusted his clothes, "you may not be able to do the splits, but you  _can_ do this." He lowered down to grab Keith's thighs and put his on his shoulders.

Keith yelped and held onto his hair, "Lance! Put me down!"

Lance shook his head and held Keith's knees, "No, I think I'm comfortable like this."

"I'm not!" His body shook as it tried to find balance. "Put me down!"

"Nah, you're too cu—"

Keith yanked on his hair, "If you say I'm cute when I'm angry, I swear to god—!"

"Okay! Okay!" Lance stifled his laughs. "Just stay relaxed and I'll get you down."

"What the fuck is that supposed to—!" Keith yelped as Lance knelt down a tad to toss him up and catch him when he fell. Keith's hands latched onto his shirt as he spun them around a few times. "Lance! You son of a bitch!"

"Come on! We're dancing!"

Keith failed at hiding his smile. "You're so annoying!"

Lance let his legs down and held his waist to rest their foreheads together. He let his breathing slow as they relaxed. Keith rested his hands on Lance's chest and looked up at him with crystal violet stars. They closed their eyes and nuzzled their cheeks together, slowly leaning into a sweet kiss.

Keith pulled back and locked eyes with him, "I didn't mean it. You're not annoying."

Lance smiled and rested his head onto Keith's shoulder. He took a deep breath of Keith's strawberry-scented hair. "You're cute when you're angry."

"Lance!" Keith laughed and shoved him off. "Nevermind!" He walked around the couch and pointed at him, "You're totally annoying!"

Lance chased after him into the bedroom, "Keith!" He snatched him up by the waist and spun him again. After carefully setting him down, he kissed his cheek. "Let's get a shower."


	72. The Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features illegal drugs.

Keith was scared for a moment when he woke up, but he felt Lance's arms around him and immediately calmed down. This happened nearly every morning; it was a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time. Lance's warm, musky skin was right behind him. He fell asleep with it there and it stayed.  _He stayed._

Lance's lungs filled as he stirred and hugged Keith to his chest. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and cuddled into his hair, "Hey baby. Good morning."

Keith's spirits lifted and a smile tugged at his lips. "Good morning."

"Ugh," Lance nuzzled into the pillow, "I'm still tired."

Keith turned around in his hold and kissed his nose, "Then just stay in bed. I'll make breakfast today."

Lance's eyes half-opened, "But I do that."

"Exactly," Keith gave him a kiss and crawled out of bed. The cool air hit his bare legs, causing him to wrap Lance's sweater tighter around his body. When he reached the door, he took one last look back at the sleepy Lance. He was sprawled out in the middle, leaving his arm where Keith once was.

Keith's cheeks warmed as he smiled and stepped out into the kitchen. He yawned and happily ruffled his hair as he started the coffee. After it was done, he brought a cup back to Lance and lied in his lap as he drank it. Then, he had to get ready for school. Lance gave him a long kiss before heading out.

The past couple weeks had been spent in bliss. They were together all the time; they started learning to dance; Lance was home every night, and his withdrawals had since died down. Everything was finally okay. They were getting back to the life they always wanted to live.

Keith switched over the laundry and put the clothes away. Housework was something he had come to enjoy now that he had gained motivation. Lance even taught him how to cook a few meals. It wasn't exactly what Keith had envisioned, but it was pretty damn close. Once the laundry was taken care of, Keith tended to the floors, sweeping and vacuuming where it was needed. Then after lunch, it was time to dust the guest rooms. Even though no one stayed in them, he still had to keep the house clean to avoid getting sick.

Keith flipped open the curtains to let the sunlight in. It was a beautiful, cool day—as "winter" as Texas could get. He ran his fingers through his hair and turned to the end tables. He carefully moved the clock and lamp to wipe underneath them. As he went to dust the handles of the drawers, one caught his eye. On the brass of it was a smudge of black. Keith sat on his knees and inspected the drawer itself. It was the bottom one—ever so slightly titled. As if it had been shut sideways.

Keith wanted to open it, but he stopped. His shaky hand couldn't gather the strength it needed to open it. He didn't want to know.

But he had to, even if he didn't wish it. So, he conjured all the strength he didn't have and gripped the handle. With one smooth motion, he yanked the drawer open. He hesitantly opened the eyes he didn't realize he shut and looked inside.

It was empty.

Keith released the breath he was holding and pushed it closed, finding it to be tilted the same way.  _It must have been a defect or something._ Keith stood up and wiped off the smudge. Out of instinct, he opened the top drawer. He didn't know  _why_ he did. Maybe to satisfy some subconscious curiosity. Maybe to prove what he already knew was true, but couldn't accept.

Inside the top drawer, tucked in a corner, were three decent-sized bags. Each one held a different shade and size of crystals. Next to them was a syringe filled with liquid.

Keith fell to his knees.  _I'm so stupid. I should've known._ He struck his fists on the floor, "I should've known!"

Keith took a moment to attempt to calm his burning lungs, but to no avail. He didn't know how long he stayed there; but when he heard the door open and Lance's voice call out to him, a shot of adrenaline pierced his heart.

 _Well,_ Keith stood and snatched one of the bags out of the drawer, clenching it in his fist.  _I made a promise._


	73. Wolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features mentions of illegal drug abuse.

Keith could feel the tears sting his eyes, but he held them back. With every step down the hall, his body shook more. The world seemed to go in slow motion as he walked into the living room. Lance was in the kitchen taking a drink of milk straight from the carton. Keith would yell at him for it, but he actually found it rebelliously adorable. Lance said something, but Keith ears were stuffed and bloated. He just watched him with a straight face until he was grounded enough to function.

Finally, Lance's voice could be heard through the cotton in his head. "Keith? You alright?" He screwed the cap back onto the milk and tossed it into the fridge. His soft face held the same genuine concern it had always harbored.

Keith's throat was swollen and sewn shut. He adjusted his grip on the bag to confirm that it actually existed. Strangely, their wedding song ran through his head as he remembered walking down the aisle to a bawling Lance. They had come so far from that day. Keith was cured, they were living together, and Lance was a drug addict. Keith could function as a normal teenager, they were both happy, Lance was a drug addict. Keith stood at the end of the hall with a bag of coke in his hand, they started learning to dance together, Lance was a drug addict.

"Keith?" Lance stepped down from the kitchen area and kept a safe distance by the couch. "What's wrong?"

A few slow breaths brought him back to reality. Keith met his eyes with hesitant lips. He could barely hold his voice steady, "You lied to me."

Lance's face scrunched up in confusion, "What? No I haven't. About what?"

Keith brought his hand up and held out the bag of cocaine. He could see the color drain from Lance's face. He swallowed hard in an attempt to relax his cotton throat. "You lied to me."

Lance was silent for a few moments before cautiously lifting his hands in defense. "Keith, I didn't mean to lie—"

Keith's chest burst in that moment. He stomped past him and stood in the kitchen.

Lance chased after him, staying a few feet away at all times. "Keith, would you please just listen to me?"

"Why?!" Keith clutched his chest and shook his head. "You  _lied_ to me!" He cut the air with his arm, "All this time! You lied to me!"

"I didn't mean to hurt you!" Lance's hands trembled.

"Well, you did!" Keith's eyes finally gave away and let out a few tears.

"I couldn't function without it!" Lance tapped his chest, keeping his tone soft and his voice loud. "I needed it so I could take some pressure off you!"

Keith shook his head and jabbed a finger at him, "No, you didn't!" He sniffled, "You had me! Was I not enough for you?!"

"I did it  _for_ you!"

Keith's chest boiled with rage. All of the muscles in his body tightened against the anger. "You shouldn't have!  _I_ was  _here_!" He took a gasp of breath, "For you!"

Lance gulped and stared at him with regret-filled eyes. They poured mistakes and lies down his cheeks and quivering lips. "I'm so sorry."

"That's not enough anymore!" Keith outstretched the bag back behind him to keep it up and away. "You were sorry last time! You're always sorry!"

"I'll stop! I'll give them up!" He put his hands together in a desperate beg. "I'll get clean! I promise you!"

Keith's face scrunched up with heartbreak. He clamped his eyes shut to avoid looking at him and frantically shook his head. "No! You promised last time!"

"I mean it this time!"

"No, you don't!"

"Baby," Lance lowered down to his knees, "please give me a second chance."

Keith's lungs tore at his rib cage like rabid dogs. They closed his throat with shards of anguish, crying out and bleeding from his eyes. He couldn't calm them. They wanted freedom. To jump from his stained cheeks and crash to the ground. It was the only way out. Keith shook his head and screamed in babbling sobs. "No! I already did!"

Lance pushed himself off the floor and took a step toward him. "Baby, please-"

"Stop!" Keith backed up to the sink and opened the bag.

"Keith, don't!" He took another step.

"Don't come any closer!" Keith faced him and motioned to the bag. "I swear to god, I'll shove all of this down my throat if you get any closer."

Lance held up his hands in defense and kept his body low. "Keith, I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say."

With pitiful sobs, he dumped the bag out and turned on the faucet. The coke was splashed over the silver and dragged down. Lance appeared behind him, grabbing his shoulder and pushing him away from the sink. "Keith! That shit's expensive!"

"What are you gonna do?!" Keith shoved the empty bag into his chest. "Sell it?!" He hopped down from the kitchen area and marched to their bedroom.

Keith threw anything he could think of into his suitcase. Outfits, toothbrush and medicines, his phone charger. He stuffed everything in as fast as he could and zipped it closed. Slipping the mask onto his face, he snatched his wallet and keys. When Lance saw the suitcase, he panicked.

"Keith, wait!" He jumped over the counter. "Please don't go!"

Keith whipped around and glared at him with scarlet eyes and drenched cheeks. He yanked the door open and shook his head. "Not this time." As a last goodbye, he shoved his suitcase out the door and headed toward his car. "Get clean, Lance!"

"Keith!" Lance walked after him in his socks. "Please!"

Keith tossed the suitcase into the back of his car and ignored Lance's protests. Tears soaked into his mask as he closed the door and started it up. Lance tapped on his window and begged like a starving puppy.

Keith held his face in his hands for a moment. He didn't want to leave. That was the last thing that he wished for. But alas, here they were. Keith sniffled and backed into the street, leaving a pitiful Lance crying in the driveway.


	74. Act Seven - Fall on Your Knees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features a graphic and potentially triggering depiction of suicide.

Heartbreak is a terrible thing. When you're in love with someone, you think that nothing bad could ever happen to you. That you two aren't the majority that will fail. Everything will be fine because you guys are perfect for each other. That's how it is, right?

You're wrong. It's called  _majority_ for a reason.

All Keith could do was sit on the floor in unimaginable pain and try to keep himself from passing out. If he wasn't sobbing, he was hyperventilating through the tears that painted his skin. He had a place to stay, and that was a start. But the gun in his lap? That was an end.

He had forgotten it was there. In his haste to leave the situation, he didn't realize that he packed a way out. Whether it was a blessing or a curse, he didn't know; but a bullet sounded tempting enough.

Keith was on fire. His entire being was crumbling around him, creating piles of the love he once had. It ruined him. Lance planted a seed that embedded itself into his lungs and grew up his throat. The roots carved their way into his veins and wrapped themselves around his bones. Their love was more destructive than the cancer that he wished had taken his life.  _I did this. It's all my fault._

Keith carefully lifted the gun with both trembling hands. It was heavier than he thought. No one ever tells you that. He turned it over and inspected the metal as it warmed in his clammy palms. He flipped the safety off and held it up.  _It would only take a second._ Keith's arms lost their strength and fell to his lap as he let out more heart-wrenching sobs. He kept his hands gripped tight on the gun and looked up to the ceiling.  _I did this to him._

Keith's heart sped up as he panicked. With every inch he raised his hand, his heart convulsed faster. He pointed the gun out in front of him as if to hit the wall. Keith pictured himself sitting on the other side, looking at him as if they lived in a mirror. He let out a pitiful cry and pulled the gun back to place it under his chin.

He wheezed through his teeth and adjusted his grip. "Please," Keith pleaded with himself, "Please!"

His arms gave away again and dropped to the ground. A puddle of tears coated the back of his hands. With a few quick breaths, he yanked it up again and jabbed the barrel into the side of his head. Keith was tired, so tired. His body screamed for mercy and begged to be set free.

Keith let out a sharp yell and pulled the gun away once more. His chest wouldn't calm down.  _Am I such a coward that I can't even kill myself?_

He stared down at the tear-speckled metal and watched the light reflect off the ridged surface. If he gave himself a few moments of rest, then he could gather the courage to pull the trigger. So he did. A minute of breathing his last breaths and crying his last tears.

 _That's all I need._ Keith picked up the gun for the last time and placed it under his jaw. If this was all he could do, then so be it. He was supposed to die. Everything was all planned out. Keith clenched his jaw and bared his teeth, "I had a plan!" More sobs tore at his throat.

Keith shook his head, keeping the gun in position.  _This is it. I can't live without Lance. I don't_ want  _to live without him._ A waterfall of tears poured out of his eyes and collected on his jaw to run down his neck.  _I wish the cancer had killed me._

Keith's lungs pounded on his ribs, stretching them out to the point of pain.  _I'm done._ With one drawn-out breath, he let out one last shrill death cry.


	75. Missing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features illegal drug abuse.

"Lance?" Krolia gave him a confused and solemn look when she opened the door.

Lance couldn't keep still, rocking from side to side. "Is Keith here?"

Krolia opened her mouth to respond, then shut it. She motioned for him to come in and crossed her arms, "He's not here."

Lance darted inside and quickly searched all the rooms. He was no where to be seen. "Ugh! Where is he?!"

Krolia leaned against the doorframe to the kitchen. "I've told you before. We haven't heard from him." Her eyes darkened to show off their motherly pity. "You've got to stop this."

Lance's eyes teared up for the third time that day. "I can't!" He tugged on his hair and tried to calm his breathing. "It's been weeks! I need to know where he is!"

Krolia took a deep breath and stared into his eyes, emphasizing every word. "Lance, I don't know where he is."

Lance spun his body as he took one last look around the house. Still nothing. He cowered his head and headed for the door. "I'm sorry. Call me if you hear from him."

"I will." Krolia shut the door behind him.

Lance went through another week of uneventful school and coming home to an empty house. Even though he knew it wouldn't happen, he always had a small pulse of hope every day that he would walk in to see Keith asleep on the couch. But everyday the house was still and cold. The first two weeks, Lance was a wreck. He cried in bed all day, hugging one of Keith's shirts or burst into tears while making coffee.

The following weeks, Lance stopped caring and went out with Isaac. He took whatever drug he could get his hands on. This constantly put him in dangerous situations with drug dealers and junkies. Even after waking up on his doorstep in the morning fog, he still didn't stop. If he couldn't have Keith, then what was the point of living?

Lance searched everywhere for Keith. He never stopped. He seemed to vanish without a trace, leaving no evidence of ever existing in his house besides the soap bottles in his shower or the clothes in his dresser. Krolia and Eric didn't know where he was, Allura was so out of the loop that she didn't even know he left until Lance told her three weeks later, Pidge and Hunk were concerned and told him they'd keep an eye out in case he showed up there. No one knew where he was or if he was okay. Lance spent all day and night driving around and looking for his car as a last resort. He never found it. After skipping out on school for an entire three weeks, his parents called and forced him to go.

Most days, Lance was coked out or high on meth. He'd pass out on the couch with a picture of Keith on his phone, waking up way too late with absolutely no motivation. He wished that he'd get over him in time; but as the months went by, Lance's love only grew and broke his heart.

Now Lance sat on his kitchen floor with crystal lines on the counter and empty syringes sprawled out around him. He fought with the tourniquet on his arm, tugging on one end with his teeth. Being as high as he was, he couldn't find the coordination to get it to stay tight. When he heard the door open, he stopped and listened to the footsteps. They were much too heavy to be Keith, so he continued to fight with the band.

Whoever it was walked into their bedroom and spent a little time there. They came out and threw a duffel bag in the entryway and walked around the counter to greet the struggling Lance.

A disappointed Shiro stared down at the array of drugs he had spilled on the floor. His eyes traced the syringes and coke lines on the counter. With a deep sigh, he crouched down in front of him and stared in silence as he continued to fiddle with his arm.

After a minute, Lance let the tourniquet snap off and fall on the floor. He spoke in an annoyed and pitiful tone. "What?"

Shiro's face stayed neutral as he stared in his eyes. "Did that help?"

Lance sneered, "What?"

Shiro motioned to the floor of drugs, "Did that fix anything." He looked at the tracks on his forearm, "Do you feel better?"

Lance stared back at him until his eyes overflowed. He threw the syringe down and curled up into his knees. "No!"

"Do you think this is what Keith wanted?"

Lance's sobbing intensified as he rocked back and forth. "No!"

Shiro placed his hand on Lance's knee and gave him a supportive squeeze. "Lance, do you want Keith back?"

Lance lifted his head and locked wide eyes with him. His chest ached and pulled on his ribs. "Yes!" He clawed at Shiro's jacket. "More than anything!"

Shiro supported his elbows as he clung to him. "You gotta get clean." He made his words crystal clear. "Keith doesn't want to come back to a druggie."

Lance inspected his face. He searched through all of his expressions for any clues. When he finally put it together, he gasped and yanked on his coat. "You know where he is."

Shiro sighed and hesitantly nodded, "Yes, I know where Keith is."

"Is he okay?!" Lance nudged him, begging for information. "Where is he?!"

Shiro grabbed his shoulders with firm hands, keeping their eyes locked. "Keith is fine. He's safe."

"But he isn't with you!" Lance's eyes wavered frantically. "I-I-I mean-I checked everyone's house!"

"No," Shiro shook his head, "he's not with me. If he wanted to be found, then he would be."

"Please take me to him!" Lance cried into his chest.

Shiro took a deep breath to let out a long sigh. He pushed him away to look at his face, "Lance, I'm here to take you to rehab."

The words ran through his head a few times before he could grasp them. "What?"

"I'm taking you to a rehab facility." Shiro patted his shoulder. "Everything's set up. I've got your bag packed. C'mon, let's go." He stood and held out a hand.

Lance hesitantly took his hand and let himself be pulled up. He stumbled a little, but quickly found his footing. "I'm going to rehab?"

Shiro nodded and supported his shoulder as they walked out to his car. "You've gotta get clean. It's time."

Lance was put into the car and made comfortable. He placed his hands in his lap and waited for Shiro to put his bag in the trunk and get in. He started the car and backed out of the driveway in silence. At this point, Lance was so broken that he decided it was best to comply. He had hit rock bottom, and it was time to claw himself out of it.


	76. Rehab

Lance let the faint music guide his yoga routine. The wind stroked his face and brushed his hair as the sun warmed his skin. His body relaxed into the deep stretches, giving him a wave of comfort. He breathed slowly, filling up his lungs and letting it out deliberately. As he finished, he let his mind stay blank and calm. Yoga had become a newfound passion since he'd been in the facility.

"Alright class, that's all for today." The instructor gave them a bow. "I will see you tomorrow."

Lance sat on his mat as he watched the other members gather their things and head back to the building. He turned to look out over the water next to them. The ocean sang for them, reminding him of the days behind him. Of old relationships and new friends. It was soothing to allow himself to remember the days he ran from. He was proud of how far he had travelled. His life was finally starting. It was as if his slate was wiped clean and thrown out a window.

Lance was finally okay.

"Hey! Lover boy!" A cheery voice called out to him.

Lance turned his head to meet the gaze of a younger girl with red hair and prominent freckles. He smiled at her, "Hello, Ginger."

She flipped her long ponytail and placed a hand on her hip. She had her blue yoga mat under her arm. "What are you doing?"

Lance stood and rolled up his mat. The sun casted a flash onto his ring, bringing a warmth to his chest. "I was just thinking."

"About what?"

Lance started walking back to the facility with her. "Just my life before."

Ginger's face slowly lit up as a smile crept across her cheeks. "Are you excited?"

Lance shrugged, "I guess so. It feels weird, though."

"Hmm?" She tilted her head as she opened the glass door to the lobby. "How so?"

"Well," Lance clicked his teeth and waved to the receptionist when they passed. "It just feels like I've been here so long. Like everything before was just a dream."

She playfully punched his arm, "Don't be a baby! Won't you go back to your husband?"

Lance took a long breath and stopped in front of his room door. He placed his hand on the wall and lowered his eyes to his feet. "I'm not sure if he'll see me."

"Oh, right!" Ginger recoiled with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I forgot."

Lance gave her a smile and shook his head. "It's really okay. I'm not upset anymore. I just hope I can fix some things I broke—with everyone." He opened the door and stepped inside.

Ginger held the door open to poke her head in. "See you in a few hours! I'm happy for you!"

Lance took the extra time to pamper himself. The facility he went to was definitely luxury. He had no idea who was paying for it, but he was thankful nonetheless. He went down to the spa and got a massage, then returned to his room to listen to music. He started out only swaying to the beat, which ended in him full-out dancing around the bed as he pretended to read a book. It reminded him of when he learned to dance with Keith. Most of the time they just teased each other or made out on the couch, but the routine was learned. It was Keith's wish.

After Lance got ready, he packed all of his stuff up. Before, he would have just stuffed everything in, but now he took care to have it look nice. It was a lot easier to put away when he didn't have to fight with his clothes. He wore his jeans and a button-down shirt, finishing it off with formal shoes. Today was important. He didn't need to be too dressed up, but it was best to look nice.

Lance brought his stuff down to the waiting area and left it with the receptionist. She was always peppy and nothing but nice to him during his entire stay. Once he was all set, he joined the group in a circle of comfy chairs. He met all of these people during his stay. They all had stories of their own. Intricate lives that were as deep and complicated as his own. They were there for each other—whether they realized it or not.

Lance took a seat and smiled at everyone. The leader stood up and started the mini ceremony. "Graduation" is what the facility called it. Everyone found it really cheesy, but it was an important part in everyone's journey. After he conducted his speech, he had Lance stand up and placed a heart stone in his hand.

Lance gave him a hug and thanked him. He turned to the group and bid them farewell. It was time for him to leave. He didn't know what he was walking into, but he was ready for it—in both body and mind.

Lance waited until he saw Shiro's car pull up. He waved to the receptionists and exited the building, taking one last look back in thanks. He would be going to therapy appointments for a while to make sure he stayed clean and in sound mind. It was crucial to get his life together when he returned home; and he knew he would.

Lance turned and walked toward Shiro's car.  _It's time to go home._

As he was walking, the passenger side door opened. It confused him, but he kept walking. A brown boot and beige cardigan stepped out and shut the door.

Lance stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes met the beautiful crystal violet he fell in love with so long ago. Keith stood in front of the car with the softest smile Lance had ever seen. His hair had grown into the mullet he had before and regained its bright shine. His dewy skin was smooth and cast a radiant glow of happiness around him. Nothing could compare to the beauty in Keith's constellations and radiant suns. He was as even more stunning than Lance had remembered. A beautiful universe that had enough perfection to outshine the faults.

Keith took a breath and stepped forward. When he reached the wide-eyed Lance, he lifted the stuffed lion in his hands. "Hello Lance. I brought you something." He placed the lion's head in front of his mouth and used his fingers to move its stubby arms. "When I was in the hospital the first time, my parents gave me this. It helped us both get better on our own." His eyes glimmered as they watered. "So I thought it might help us get better together."

Keith uncovered his quivering lips, "So now that you're better, will you come home with me?"


End file.
